The Adventures of Harriet Potter: Year 3
by kleinnak
Summary: Another attack on the innocent, an escaped convict, and the beginning of Harriet Potter's third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Who really is Sirius Black? What does he have to do with Sherrod Howe, enigmatic Headmaster of Rathlin School for the Arts (and Magic)? Who's the traitor Sirius Black speaks of? Time will tell...
1. The Lost Boy and the Envoy

Chapter 1

The Lost Boy and the Envoy

"It was General William Tecumseh Sherman who spoke the words 'War is cruelty.' He was right."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

The hot sun beat down on the boy as he lay on the dusty ground. He had stumbled over an old barbed wire fence he hadn't seen in the tall grass. He just lay there for a while, his eyes closed, trying to think. At least he was face down so the sun was beating on the back of his head and not his face. He didn't know where he was, and he didn't care. All he knew was he was away from… whomever he was running from.

He couldn't remember much; at least not why he was really running. He remembered his name, he remembered how old he was, and he remembered his life prior to yesterday, so that was good. Or did he?

He was twelve, or was he thirteen already? No, he was twelve going on thirteen. His name was Jackson, but was that his first name, or his last name? He remembered his mother calling him Jackson, so it must be his first name. What was his last name then?

He also remembered people calling him Lee. But then he heard people call his father Lee too. Maybe he was Lee Junior? Lee could be a first name or a last name, couldn't it? But so could Jackson. But if his mother called him Jackson, and people called both him and his father Lee; that meant his name was most likely Jackson Lee, didn't it?

His head hurt and he groaned trying not to think so much anymore. He was very thirsty. He remembered being told how people couldn't go very long without water. His mother was always the one who told him that every time he wanted to go out and play with the other kids. At least it wasn't winter.

Why was he running? What had happened? He remembered lots of lights, lots of screaming. He rolled onto his side and something heavy thudded to the ground behind him. He reached back for whatever it was instinctively. His arm felt a lot heavier than it normally did.

He touched something cool and metal. That seemed strange. It was really hot, why would metal be cool? He took hold of it. The part he grabbed was thin and round, but there was a heavy bulk hanging off it, so heavy it was hard to pick up. He grunted as he pulled the object around in front of him, opening his eyes to look at it. He jumped in surprise and dropped it.

It was a gun.

Where had he got a gun? As he looked at it, he recognized it. It was his dad's gun. It was an old-style revolver, well-worn from years of use. He reached down to his hip and felt a leather holster. That was why the gun was still cool; it had been in the holster out of the sun. He was remembering more now. His parents ran a re-enactment show, showing how people lived a hundred years ago out west. That was pretty much all the town did; re-enactments for tourists. And then _they_ came… the Secessionists…

He buried his face in his hands. It was as if each new memory was a little knife stabbing into his brain. They came into the town and said they needed to hide. They were being chased. They needed food and water. Everyone was scared. No one knew what was going on. No one else was magical like the invaders were. He was the only wizard in town; a Muggle-born.

_Wizard_. _Muggle-born._ Those words stabbed him too. He curled up but winced again. It wasn't his head hurting this time. It was his side. He reached down and felt a broken stick poking against him. He rolled over enough to pull it from his pocket and inspect it. It was a very straight, polished stick, snapped forcibly in half.

_Wand_, he thought. Why was he calling it a wand? Oh that was right, he was a wizard. Wizards used wands. Not guns. But the wand was broken. That must have been why he took the gun. But how had his wand been broken?

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He screamed as loud as he could and dropped the wand, clamping his hands down tight over his eyes, as if he could block out the visions. The Unionists, they had come too. He remembered seeing their lines of trenches circling the town, cutting off all escape.

The Secessionists had forced the townspeople all inside their homes while they prepared defences. According to one of the Secessionist soldiers, the regiment their unit belonged to had been ordered to attack some towns in the neighbouring state of North Dakota. The attack had got out of hand and the soldiers got carried away. The towns had been completely destroyed.

He remembered hearing about that attack the previous summer. It had made him even more afraid. The soldiers in the hills surrounding them wanted revenge. The Secessionist soldiers barricading themselves in his town were all that was left of that regiment. First they had destroyed three towns on purpose, now they were trying to use Jackson's town as a shield. He hated them.

Jackson cried out again, this time in rage. He hated the Unionists too. Now he remembered why he had run. They had attacked. They had come at first light, wearing special armour and firing spells indiscriminately at anything that moved, lobbing things that looked like grenades which exploded with great force, tossing wreckage and people into the air. And that was all he remembered. He didn't remember anything after that. He remembered the Unionists attacking, and then lying here in the dirt and tall grass, foot draped over a barbed wire fence with a broken wand and his dad's revolver.

He heard something in the distance. It was a rumbling. It seemed distant, but it was getting closer. It was more like he could feel it through the ground at this point. He wasn't afraid this time; it was a very different rumbling than the attack. This was steady, as if hundreds of feet pounding the ground at once. It was a comforting sound somehow.

He heard a whiny in the distance. Horses? There weren't any wild horse herds around here, were there? Mustangs were further west, it couldn't be. Maybe it was pronghorn, but these sounded heavier than pronghorn. And pronghorn didn't whiny.

There was a very heavy footstep nearby and he jumped a little in surprise, but didn't move or look around.

_Human?_

He jumped again. It had been a very deep voice, but somehow, he felt as though he could have just been imagining it. He groaned. Somehow he felt as though the voice was asking him the question.

_Yes, human._

That was a different sounding voice. Or thought. He still wasn't exactly sure what was happening. He was so tired and thirsty. _Yes, I'm human,_ he thought in reply. Suddenly, he heard a whole outbreak of thought-voices, but none of them seemed to be in response to his own thought.

_What's it doing out here?_

_I don't know… looks half dead. Should we leave it?_

_It's a wizard, I see a wand._

_But I also see one of those Muggle killing things… I don't like those things much…_

_Maybe we should just let nature take its course?_

_I'll take the boy._

There was a pause as Jackson tried to open his eyes. He managed it and found himself nose to nose with the long face of a chocolate-brown horse. Its eyes were alert, looking into his. The sunlight hurt his eyes and he closed them again.

_You'll take the boy, Epeius? What will you do with it?_

_Take him back to his own kind._

Jackson moaned. He heard the frustrated grunts of a horse lowering itself to its knees.

_Grab my mane, boy, pull yourself up_.

"Hurt…" Jackson finally managed to say. He was surprised he could understand himself, his voice came out sounding more like a croaking frog.

_I have a very strong mane, now come on… pull yourself on…_

Jackson grunted and tried to lift a hand up to the horse's neck. He felt its wide nose gently nudging his head.

_That's it boy… you'll get it. Take your time._

Jackson pulled, and managed to get himself closer to the horse's warm body. There was something very comforting about its presence.

_Where will you take it? We heard the attack this morning, can't be many safe places for it to go,_ asked another deep voice. The voices still seemed to be in his head. They were so deep and booming they made the ground tremble.

_I will take him to the north-lands._

_That's at least three hundred miles!_

_Am I an Areion, or not?_

Jackson grunted and pulled himself up more onto the horse. He paused, looking back down at the ground. The revolver and broken wand were still there. He reached out a trembling hand.

_It's going for the gun!_ A thought/voice whinnied in fright and anger. There was the sound of many stamping feet.

_Oh shut up, the lot of you, does he look like he's about to shoot anyone?_ Now he was on the horse, Jackson became aware of something else. The horse's body had trembled as he heard the voice. He was greeted by an insane thought. Was the horse actually talking?

He felt the horse's nose nudge him again.

_Go on boy._

Jackson didn't know why, but he nodded, and picked up the pistol. He stuck it into the holster, and then picked up the wand as well.

_I don't know when or if I'll be back… it'll be a long time._

_You don't have to do this, Epeius, there are closer towns._

The horse's shoulders moved strangely under him. Jackson was struck by another strange thought: had the horse just shrugged?

It struggled to its feet but Jackson didn't feel as though he was going to fall off. In fact, he felt more secure just draped over the horse's back then he ever had sitting properly in a saddle on the horses back in town.

_Ready, boy?_

Jackson's tongue felt too heavy to talk. He simply nodded. The horse snorted and with a roaring thunder of hooves, the horse began to run. But this was different. This was nothing like any other horse he had ever ridden. Hills and fences and random trees whipped past him as the horse rocketed across the ground. Wind whipped his hair and he couldn't keep his eyes open to look where they were going anymore.

Exhaustion was taking over again. His eyelids felt heavier as he kept them closed. Slowly, despite riding on a horse running many times faster than a normal horse should, that could either talk through thoughts, or could actually speak, Jackson fell asleep.

* * *

The clock ticked steadily on the wall. Cornelius Fudge, Minister or Magic for Great Britain, glanced at it and drummed his fingers impatiently. He didn't like waiting for people, particularly for meetings of this level of importance.

In his head Fudge gave a mirthless snort of laughter. It was almost one year ago to the day that the troubles in America had first wound up in his office, when Dumbledore showed up with one of his professors, requesting he bring over a few handfuls of refugees to attend Hogwarts as a show of good faith. He should have suspected something like this would happen. Nothing with Dumbledore was ever as simple as it seemed.

Fudge forced his face into a smile as he heard the soft knock on the door from his senior under-secretary, Dolores Umbridge.

"Enter," Fudge called.

The door opened and Dolores beamed at Fudge and said in her most simpering voice. "Mister Solomon Kinney, Envoy from the Free State of North Dakota, to see you, Minister."

"Thank you, Dolores," Fudge said and rose from his seat to greet Kinney as he stepped into the room. He did not look at all how Fudge had expected. He looked to be in his early thirties. He had long jet-black hair tied back into a ponytail. He was wearing a snow-white suit with a matching long white coat draped over his arm. He was also holding a white fedora and a shiny brown briefcase. He had a round face but a long thin nose and bright blue eyes.

Kinney bowed deeply to Fudge before he rose and shook Fudge's outstretched hand. "Good afternoon, Minister. Please accept my warmest gratitude for taking such a personal interest in this case. I must admit I had not expected to be given an audience with Britain's Minister of Magic himself!"

_Well, he's friendly enough_, Fudge thought as he shook.

"Well, it was on my orders, after all, that these children were brought to our nation and given quarter," Fudge said trying to sound as casual as he could. "Needless to say it has become a personal interest of mine."

Fudge gestured to the chair in front of his desk and sat. Kinney sat as well and continued to smile pleasantly at Fudge.

"So, if you could be so kind as to tell me the exact nature of your visit, I shall do my utmost to see how well we can accommodate your requests," Fudge said. He monitored his tone closely as he spoke, trying to find the balance between pleasant and professional. He did not want to show his own hand just yet, not before he got Kinney to show his.

"Well, it is a rather sticky matter, Minister," Kinney said. "The problem, it seems, is some children who have been sent here have family back home who would like them back."

Fudge raised his eyebrows. "Indeed?"

"Indeed, yes, Minister," Kinney said.

"Do you have a list of the students in question?" Fudge asked.

Kinney's eyes narrowed but Fudge didn't change his expression. Fudge was hard pressed to hide his smile, but he managed it. _So, you don't like me calling them students and laying my claim on them, do you?_ Fudge thought as he leaned forward.

"Of course, Minister," Kinney said and opened the briefcase. He pulled out a sheet of parchment and handed it to Fudge.

Fudge took the sheet and leaned back in his chair. He pulled out his reading glasses and put them on, making a show of reading the list thoroughly. Despite trying to keep his cool exterior, Fudge was having trouble as he processed the names.

Megan Esther Eastman

Tori Alice Hoffman

Adele Ladybird Jackson

Benjamin Thomas Jackson

Mable Ladybird Jackson

Avery Anne McGee

Ellery Anne McGee

Ari Elizabeth Miller

Peyton Holly Riseman

Kaitlyn Marie Tyler

Kenley Rose Tyler

_So that's the game, is it?_ Fudge thought.

"Well, goodness there does seem to have been a few, doesn't there?" Fudge said, sounding incredulous. "Though I suppose in the panic over such an attack mistakes most certainly could have—"

"Well they're not all really mistakes, Minister," Kinney said pleasantly. "Many of these poor children did lose their parents in the attacks, but they do have other family that would like to see them returned."

Fudge nodded, looking as though he was thinking hard. He wanted to make Kinney sweat now. He decided to test him.

"Yes, I imagine so… the Johnsons for instance…" Fudge said tapping on the names of the three Jackson children.

Kinney's eyes narrowed. "Jacksons," he said flatly.

_Well, you passed the test, but you still failed the class_, Fudge thought.

"The thing is… there's a distinct problem that I see with this list," Fudge said. He removed his glasses and laid the list on the table, tapping it with a finger.

"I assure you, Minister, the list is perfectly accurate," Kinney said.

Fudge sighed, "Oh I'm sure it's perfectly accurate from your point of view, Mister Kinney. However, from my point of view there are several problems with this list," he said gravely. "The first, it was clearly compiled by someone with an agenda. And not an agenda I approve of. The second is that it was compiled by someone who clearly believes my staff, including myself, to be completely incompetent."

Kinney's face turned to stone as Fudge picked up the list again. "_Kaitlyn and Kenley Tyler_… the poor dears… must have lost everything mustn't they? Never mind the fact I have personally spoken with their still very much alive parents. Charming folk, Muggles you know? And I believe at this very moment they are touring Unionist states speaking out against the Secessionist states aren't they?"

Kinney again gave no reaction, but to Fudge that was an even bigger indicator he had Kinney caught than if he had reacted. Kinney clearly knew he was caught, what more was there for him to do or say?

"The really amusing one, which was the biggest give-away, by the way, was the inclusion of Miss Hoffman," Fudge went on setting the parchment back down on the desk and sliding it across to Kinney. "Really, did you think I wouldn't remember the name of the mayor of Rollen, one of the three towns destroyed that summer? The man who led all those poor people to safety?"

Kinney's face still looked as though it was made of stone as he reached up and took the parchment. He simply placed it back inside his briefcase and closed it with a snap.

"I'll give you credit on your homework though, slipping in Miss Riseman. I suppose she was an attempt to give the list credibility?" Fudge asked, looking at Kinney shrewdly. "Yes, slipping in an orphan was a nice touch, except per _my_ information, her parents abandoned her at the age of seven when she first began to show magical powers and were informed of her true nature as a witch. As a result, despite being fully adopted and cared for since then by the Riseman family, the poor dear has had serious trust issues as I have been told by the Hogwarts matron. The Risemans, incidentally, are in one of your camps that we keep hearing about, is that correct?"

The only movement Kinney made was to narrow his eyes further. "The Jacksons were a nice touch as well, weren't they?" Fudge added. "Family originally from Texas I believe? Had the list just been them I may have been inclined to believe you."

Fudge leaned forward on his desk once more, studying Kinney. "What are you really after? To silence these families? Blackmail? Con us into turning these children over to your custody so you can hold them hostage? Kill them as a threat to others who may attempt to follow their parents' lead maybe? Clever, but not clever enough."

Kinney made to rise from his chair but Fudge glared. "You will remain in your seat until I dismiss you, Mister Kinney," Fudge barked.

Kinney sat again.

"I do not take kindly to these sorts of actions, Mister Kinney. Nor do I take kindly to being thought so low of. You should have suspected something the moment I requested you speak to me on this matter personally, rather than a lower office."

Fudge rose from his seat, leaning down on his desk to look down on Kinney. "I will permit you to leave our shores back to your _country_ just this once, Mister Kinney. Should I, or any of my staff, hear of you being seen in this country again, it will not end well for you."

Kinney did not look intimidated. "Very well then, Minister, our business is concluded."

"Very good," Fudge said, still leaning down over Kinney. "Auror John Dawlish will accompany you on your way out of our country. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, Minister," Kinney said. He rose and put on his hat.

Almost on cue, the door to the office opened and Dawlish stepped inside.

"Thank you, Dawlish," Fudge said.

Dawlish nodded. "At your service, Minister. Come, Mister Kinney, your flight awaits."

Kinney turned. He walked to the door but paused on the threshold. "One last thing, Minister?"

Fudge didn't react, just kept looking at Kinney.

"Since my side fired first, you may think you're on the right side, supporting the Unionists," Kinney said. He opened his briefcase one more time and drew out a newspaper. He tossed it onto Fudge's desk. "But maybe you'll think more carefully now?"

He stepped from Fudge's office and Dawlish closed the door after them. Fudge finally sat down and looked at the newspaper on his desk. The headline made his jaw clench.

_Massacre! Hundreds dead! Unionist Forces Slaughter Innocent Muggles!_

Fudge sighed. What had Dumbledore really got him into?

"Well done, Minister," a voice said from Fudge's fireplace. Fudge closed his eyes.

"Thank you, Howe, for alerting me," Fudge said. He looked over to see the trim figure of Sherrod Howe rising from one of Fudge's high-backed armchairs by his fireplace where he had been sitting and listening in.

"But of course, Minister," Howe said striding towards Fudge's desk.

Fudge held up the newspaper for him.

"I hope you and Dumbledore know what you're doing getting wrapped up in this?" Fudge asked.

Howe took the paper and read the headline as well. "Funny how that works, isn't it?"

"What?" Fudge asked frowning.

"Secessionists attack three Unionist towns, destroy them all, kill thousands, and the papers treat it as though it was bound to happen. Unionist forces attack a town of a couple hundred and suddenly it's a catastrophe. Everyone wants to stick up for the underdog, I guess," Howe said dropping the paper back on Fudge's desk.

"That's not the point, Howe," Fudge snapped. "I was on the side of the victims, now I'm on the side of the retaliators who killed a town full of Muggles."

Howe looked at Fudge disapproving. "This is a war, Fudge, people die… you should remember that."

Fudge glowered. "True…"

Howe picked up the paper again and perused the article. "Lot left out of this… the unit that was in the town was the 47th… the same unit that attacked Rollen, Belview and St James… apparently they commandeered the town as a last line of defence against the Unionist forces pursuing them."

Fudge glowered at Howe as Howe replaced the newspaper on the desk. He hated how Howe always knew so much more than he did. If possible, Howe was worse about it than Dumbledore. And that was saying something.

"Well… still… I'll have to answer for this to the _Prophet_ tomorrow… 'How can you throw in your lot with those barbarians?'" Fudge said. "Rita Skeeter will be beside herself with delight."

He sighed. "All the same, thank you. As much as I am… we shall say _displeased_ with this recent turn of events," Fudge said, tapping the article. "I was not about to allow innocent children be turned over to the likes of Kinney… whatever his plot was."

Howe smiled. "Glad to hear it, Minister."

Fudge looked up at him shrewdly. "I suspect you want something for bringing this information forward? You and Dumbledore always do."

Howe's smile did not falter. Instead, from nowhere he produced a newspaper of his own. "Oh just a trifling matter. A favour really. Not even a repayment."

Fudge sat back in his chair. "Really?" It was impossible to hide the scepticism in his voice.

"Oh yes," Howe said holding out the paper to Fudge. "I believe tonight is your annual inspection of Azkaban Prison?"

Fudge shivered. As if he needed reminding. "It is."

"Well then, would you mind passing this along to Sirius Black?" Howe asked, still holding out the paper.

Fudge blinked. "You want me to deliver a newspaper to Sirius Black?"

"Not deliver, really, just, as long as you're heading that way," Howe said smiling warmly.

Fudge took the paper but didn't look at it. He was thinking hard. He remembered some connection between Black and Howe. Nothing sinister, but somehow it sparked his memory. Then he remembered. He looked up to see Howe was almost to the door.

"Didn't you resign over the Black case?" Fudge asked.

Howe paused. "What do you mean Black _case_…? There has to be an investigation for there to be a case, Minister."

Howe turned and looked back at Fudge one last time. "I just recall he liked crosswords. The one in today's Prophet was particularly good. I just thought he'd like it."

Howe turned back to the door and walked out, closing it gently behind him. Fudge looked down at the paper. In spite of all that had happened, the photograph on the front page made him smile. It was a photograph of the Weasley family.

He never saw Arthur Weasley very often. He only held a minor role in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But Fudge understood him to be a polite man who took his job very seriously and had a large family. He had even written the recent Muggle Protection Act which Fudge had just signed last week.

Apparently Arthur Weasley had won the _Daily Prophet's_ Grand Prize Galleon Draw. It was a wonderful thing to happen to a family who only a few weeks ago had come so close to suffering a serious tragedy during the Heir of Slytherin fiasco at Hogwarts. Their youngest daughter it seemed had been taken by the Heir's monster, which turned out to be a basilisk.

The girl, Ginny was her name, had been saved from death by none other than Harriet Potter herself. The whole story had seemed rather far-fetched to Fudge at first. However, on his return visit to Hogwarts that day, after arresting and bringing in Gilderoy Lockhart for at least ten counts of illegal memory-modification and identity theft, Fudge had indeed been shown the body of the basilisk, killed in a way that complied perfectly with Potter's account of the events.

Fudge looked back down at the photograph. They did seem a good family. Every one of them were smiling warmly and waving at the camera. The second youngest girl even had her pet rat on her shoulder. In spite of himself, Fudge simply smiled, opened up his own briefcase, and slid the newspaper inside.


	2. The Birthday and the Beast

Chapter 2

The Birthday and the Beast

"If only everyone had someone to ride in and save them at the last moment."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

Number Four, Privet Drive, was a perfectly normal house, and inside it lived a perfectly normal family. At least that was what the family who lived in Number Four wanted all the other perfectly normal families in the neighbourhood to think. However, every now and then, odd things would happen around Number Four that were difficult for the rest of the street to ignore.

The first incident was that night twelve years ago when a motorbike had roared up to Number Four in the middle of the night, paused and then roared off again. Many in the neighbourhood heard it, but by a freak coincidence all of the street lamps had gone out on Privet Drive that night, so no one actually saw the brute that had created all the noise.

Then there was the summer two years ago when the denizens of Privet Drive started to notice a large concentration of owls appearing around Number Four. At first it was only one or two, swooping in early in the morning. Then more and more came until a flock of them were swooping down on the house. This only ended when the family that lived at Number Four packed up mysteriously and fled for two days.

Last summer it was the mysterious car that had awoken everyone in the middle of the night, but again, no one saw the offending vehicle. All anyone saw when they looked out their windows at Number Four was the man who lived there, Vernon Dursley, hanging out of one of the upstairs windows with his bony wife, Petunia, and portly son, Dudley, trying to pull him back inside.

Those were the big, and admittedly, rare events. The most common disturbances from Number Four were the loud shouting matches that would break out between Vernon Dursley and his niece, Harriet Potter. The most recent, as far as the neighbours could tell, was over the girl giving out their telephone number to someone of whom Vernon Dursley disapproved. Fortunately, it had been over a month since that incident, and life in Privet Drive had returned to its normal quiet routine.

Unbeknownst to any of the surrounding neighbours, the Dursley family lived in fear. In particular, they lived in fear of anyone finding out that Harriet was not a normal little girl. In fact, Harriet was about as abnormal as it was possible to be.

Because of this, the Dursleys had spent years spreading as many rumours about Harriet as they could to keep anyone from talking to her. Even their son, Dudley, had spent much of his time in primary school making sure Harriet didn't have a single friend. All of that changed the summer of 1991, when Harriet received a letter that changed her life forever.

Contrary to everything the Dursleys had told their neighbours for years, Harriet was not a delinquent with criminal tendencies who attended Lady Desdemona's Academy for Determinedly Delinquent Girls. In reality, Harriet was a quiet girl who loved everybody and attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That was what was so abnormal about Harriet Potter. She was a witch.

More than that, Harriet seemed to have a knack for attracting trouble. In the last two years since Harriet received her life-changing letter from Hogwarts, she had become the youngest player ever to be picked for a Hogwarts house Quidditch team, been nearly crushed by a mountain troll, been nearly torn apart by a giant three headed dog, taken a potion that transformed her into another person, met Aragog the acromantula and nearly been eaten by his horse-sized offspring, and killed the first basilisk to be seen in Britain in over four hundred years.

Worse than that, she had also come face to face with Lord Voldemort twice. Harriet still did not know why Lord Voldemort had tried to kill her in the first place. The Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had told her that he would tell her when she was older, and she would have to be patient until then.

At the end of her first year, Harriet met Lord Voldemort after her friends had helped her get through a series of obstacles set up by the Hogwarts staff to protect the Philosopher's Stone. Harriet had managed to stop him thanks to the lingering magical enchantment her mother had left, an enchantment that prevented Professor Quirrell, who was sharing a body with Lord Voldemort, from touching her skin. Voldemort was forced to flee, killing Quirrell in the process.

At the end of her second year, Harriet came face to face with Voldemort's sixteen-year old self, Tom Riddle. Riddle had preserved himself in a memory he had enchanted in a diary. In that time, Voldemort had proved just how powerful he still was. He had enchanted one of Harriet's friends, Ginny Weasley, into opening the legendary Chamber of Secrets to carrying out a series of attacks; petrifying a cat, several students and even a ghost, before Harriet stopped him and his basilisk.

It was that last encounter that had given Harriet the most trouble afterwards. Not only had Riddle enchanted Ginny, but he had invaded and manipulated Harriet's dreams. A month and a half later, Harriet still had trouble sleeping because of it; afraid he would appear again.

He had also tried to convince Harriet to join him and restore him to power. After he discovered that Harriet couldn't die because of her mother's sacrifice, that she wasn't "special" after all, he had attempted to kill her through his basilisk. Thanks to Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, who not only blinded the basilisk, but brought the Sorting Hat which provided Godric Gryffindor's sword. Harriet was able to use the sword to kill both the basilisk and destroy Riddle's diary.

In spite of all those harrowing experiences, the last two years had easily been the best of Harriet's life. It wasn't the adventures, or the fact she was famous, or even because of Quidditch. No. The best thing to happen to Harriet since she received her letter was she had finally made friends. Not just any friends, wonderful friends: Ronnie Weasley, Hermione Granger, Dora Flamel, Kieran O'Brien, Marcus Van De Lakk, and Scott McIntyre. She had also become good friends with Rubeus Hagrid, the massive gamekeeper for Hogwarts who was twice as tall as a normal man but was the gentlest person Harriet had ever known.

Harriet had also managed to make a few friends from the group of refugee students who had come from the war in America the previous summer. Harriet had spent much of the summer wondering if the war was over yet. On the one hand, she wished it was, because she didn't want more people to die. But on the other hand, a strange part of Harriet hoped it wasn't, because she wasn't sure she was ready for them all to leave.

The new students hadn't been very well received at first, and the incident with the Chamber didn't help matters. Many of the regular students blamed the new students for the attacks. The new students even disappeared for a couple weeks, and were later revealed to be hiding in a place called the Room of Requirement, a secret room in Hogwarts that could provide anything its occupants desired except for food.

Despite having such great friends, Harriet had not heard much from them over the summer, but she knew they were mostly busy. Ronnie had said she was going to Egypt with her family to visit her eldest brother, Bill. Hermione and Dora were both on family holidays in France. Marcus was busy taking part in Gilderoy Lockhart's trial. This meant her most regular correspondents were Kieran and Scott.

The most amusing incident happened one week into the summer, when Harriet had received a phone call from Ronnie. It might have worked if not for an unfortunate set of circumstances. The first unfortunate circumstance was that it had been Uncle Vernon who answered the phone. The second was, in an effort to make absolutely sure she was heard, Ronnie chose to shout into the telephone receiver as loudly as she could. The third was when Ronnie made the fatal mistake of mentioning Hogwarts.

Uncle Vernon had been furious. He shouted a lot, which hadn't been pleasant at the time, but in hindsight Harriet actually had to admit the sight of Uncle Vernon puffed up like an elephant seal, spit flying as he yelled was rather funny. As had been the look of shock on his face when Ronnie began shouting into the phone.

Since then, Harriet had received a letter here and there from each of her friends. The biggest improvement over the last summer was that unlike last summer, Harriet was now allowed to let her owl, Hedwig, go out and hunt at night. Uncle Vernon had made her swear not to use Hedwig to send any letters, but Harriet had ignored him.

She had also managed to get around Uncle Vernon locking her school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs that had once been her bedroom. Early in the summer, Harriet had waited for the Dursleys to leave the house for a while, snuck down stairs and picked the lock to the cupboard under the stairs. She had learned how the previous summer from Fred and George, her best friend Ronnie's older twin brothers. She took all her necessary schoolbooks, quills, ink and parchment. She also snuck out a few more of the Nancy Drew books that Hermione had given her at the end of their first year.

At the moment, however, Harriet was doing homework. She had her copy of _A History of Magic_ propped open, working on an essay for Professor Binns' class. She also had a torch held in the crook of her neck, which was starting to hurt from the continued effort of holding the torch. She felt a yawn coming on and set the torch down.

Harriet felt some of the fresh summer air on her face as she lifted the covers. It felt pleasant and cool and she smiled and decided to call it a night. She turned off her torch, closed her book, put the cap back on her ink bottle, and began to put it all into an old pillow case, getting ready to hide it under the loose floorboard under her bed.

The Harriet Potter who slid out from under the covers was much changed from the Harriet Potter who had lived in this room the previous summer. She had grown several inches over the past year, and was beginning to fill out a little. She had a straight nose and high cheekbones, with almond-shaped, brilliantly green eyes.

She was dressed simply in an oversized t-shirt and soft athletic shorts she had been given by Ginny while staying with the Weasley's the previous summer. Her straight, jet-black hair was tied back into a tight ponytail, her fringe pinned at her right temple by a silver-cat hair-clip that had been given to her on her very first day at Hogwarts by fellow Gryffindor, Lavender Brown.

The way it was pinned hid the lightning shaped scar on her forehead, the lone sign of what made Harriet so remarkable. It was the mark from where the curse Lord Voldemort had fired at her had hit. But instead of killing her, it rebounded upon Voldemort and destroyed his body and most of his powers. All it had given Harriet was the scar, which she usually kept covered with her hair to keep people from staring at her.

Harriet looked at the clock as she swung her legs out of bed and paused. Her heart skipped a beat. She had been thirteen for a whole hour already. She was finally a teenager. A thrill of excitement swept over Harriet. Sure she was all alone and there was no one around to share the moment, but it didn't matter. She had reached one of life's milestones.

She hopped out of bed as quietly as she could and did a little dance. She paused afterwards, cringing and listening hard, hoping she hadn't woken the Dursleys. Fortunately, Uncle Vernon and Dudley's snores continued unabated.

Harriet sighed in relief and moved to the window, scanning the sky. It was the third night of her snowy owl, Hedwig's, absence. She'd been gone longer than this before but Harriet still missed her.

Harriet stretched and looked up at the night sky again. As she did, she squinted looking at the moon. There was something moving, silhouetted against the silvery orb, coming in Harriet's direction. It was moving awkwardly, and Harriet squinted harder. Harriet gasped as she recognized what it was, and stepped aside.

A half a minute later, seven owls flew through the window. Or rather, six owls flew through the window, with two of them carrying a seventh. The last two owls fluttered onto Harriet's bed, setting down the owl they were carrying in a gentle, almost reverent way. Harriet had no trouble recognizing most of the owls. The easiest to recognize was Hedwig. Apart from Hedwig there was Hesper, Marcus' owl, and Adal, who belonged to Scott. The seventh owl who had been set down gently on the bed was Errol.

Harriet removed the parcel that Errol had been carrying and scooped him up into her arms. She laid him as gently as she could into Hedwig's cage. Errol gave one little hoot of thanks before he managed to get to his aged talons and drink. Harriet smiled warmly at him before she turned back to the other owls. She almost gave out a laugh as she saw them. All six of the remaining owls were lined up on the edge of her bed, looking up at her with interest and holding out their legs.

"Oh relax you lot, I can't open them all at once," Harriet whispered as she crossed back to the owls. She knelt and one by one untied their parcels. She started with Hedwig's, then Adal's, then Hesper's. The next owl was a handsome barn owl. Harriet smiled to see _From __Kieran_ on the card that came with the owl's parcel. The next was a large eagle-owl who Harriet was sure was the Flamel family owl. The final owl was a Tawny, and its letter bore the unmistakable Hogwarts School crest.

Harriet opened each and every parcel one by one. As she did, with the exception of Hedwig and Errol, each owl spread its wings and flew out the window into the night. Each parcel contained a present and a birthday card. Harriet opened Ronnie's card first. Inside was the clipping from the newspaper article about the Weasley's winning seven-hundred galleons from the _Daily Prophet_ and going on vacation to Egypt.

Harriet beamed as she looked down at the moving photograph that accompanied the clipping. She giggled quietly at the sight of the Weasley family waving up at her merrily. There was Mr and Mrs Weasley right in the centre, with their arms around a man Harriet had never seen before. She supposed it must be the eldest Weasley son, Bill.

As Harriet got a good look at Bill, she felt her stomach get fluttery. He was very handsome, and more than that, he was undeniably cool. He had long hair pulled back into a ponytail and was wearing a dragon-hide jacket. Harriet bit her lip and forced herself to look at the rest of the picture. There was Fred and George, both laughing merrily, and Percy who looked more smug than usual for some reason. Finally she looked at Ronnie and Ginny. Ronnie was hugging Ginny from behind, Scabbers on her shoulder, both beaming.

Harriet read Ronnie's note. She couldn't help but giggle more as Ronnie described her adventures in Egypt. Fred and George attempting to lock Percy in a tomb, the bizarre curses that Egyptian wizards put on their tombs and all the mutated skeletons inside of unfortunate grave-robbing Muggles, and how happy she was for her family to finally have some gold. They would be back a week before returning to Hogwarts, and would go to Diagon Alley.

Harriet's stomach lurched. How was she going to get to Diagon Alley this year? The Dursleys were unlikely to take her. She put it from her mind for now and finished reading. Apparently Percy had just been named Head Boy. That explained the smug look on his face in the _Daily Prophet_ cutting.

Harriet opened Ronnie's present now. She gave a soft "ooo" as she pulled out what looked like a small glass spinning top. She looked it over closely, running her fingers along its smooth lines. She set it down on its point on the desk beside her and went to spin it but found she couldn't. Instead her fingers slipped and she almost gave a shriek of fright, expecting it to fall off the desk, but again she was surprised. Instead of falling, the little top stayed perfectly upright, solid as a rock. Harriet looked in the box it had come in and found another note from Ronnie.

_Harriet,_

_This is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around it's supposed to light up and spin. Thought it would be handy in case You-Know-Who ever showed up again. Bill said it's rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn't reliable because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn't know Fred and George had put beetles in his soup._

_XO, _

_Ronnie_

Harriet looked at the Sneakoscope with interest. Well, even if it didn't work very well, it was really pretty, and at least it wasn't lighting up right now. Now she turned to the card and presents that Hedwig had brought. This was from Hermione, and the present was quite heavy.

Harriet imagined it was going to be a book, but she put it down and opened the letter and read. By the end of this letter, Harriet's smile had grown even more. It was twice as long as Ronnie's had been, detailing her jealousy at being unable to visit Egypt as well. Harriet also had to smile up at Hedwig when she read how Hedwig had turned up to take her present for her.

"Awwww, you flew all the way to France to make sure I got a present?" Harriet asked as quietly as she could. Hedwig puffed up her feathers and clicked her beak proudly.

Harriet smiled and read on. She almost laughed out loud when she read Hermione's PS:

_Ronnie says Percy's Head Boy. I'll bet Percy's really pleased. Ronnie doesn't seem too happy about it. Also, I blush writing it but, is it just me or does Ronnie's brother, Bill, seem very, well, interesting?_

Harriet rolled her eyes and muttered "No, it's not just you," under her breath as she set down the note and picked up the present. Harriet gasped as she pulled off the wrapping paper. It was not a book. Instead it was a black leather case, with silver lettering that formed the words _Broomstick Servicing Kit_.

"Oh wow," Harriet said reverently as she opened the case. Inside she found handle-polish, tail-twig clippers, a compass to clip onto your broom, and a handbook on how best to use everything in the kit.

The next parcel was Kieran's. Not being on vacation, his letter was a simple wish of happy birthday and the hope she would find her present useful for this coming year. Harriet beamed as she opened it and found it was a brand-new pair of shin, knee and elbow pads for Quidditch.

Scott's present it turned out came with some assembly required. It was a brand-new cage for Hedwig, larger and stronger than the old one.

"Heh, you probably could have used this last summer, huh?" Harriet asked Hedwig. Hedwig gave an indignant hoot and her amber eyes narrowed. Harriet was sure that like her, Hedwig would never forget their eventful trip to Hogwarts in Mister Weasley's flying car.

Marcus' letter was even longer than Hermione's, and it also contained a newspaper clipping. However, this time it wasn't just a little clipped out article. It was an entire front page:

_**GILDEROY GUILTY!**_

_**Wizengamot convicts Gilderoy Lockhart on all counts. Sentencing to be fixed.**_

So they convicted him after all? Good, she thought turning to Marcus' letter. She could never forgive Lockhart for all the horrible things he'd done. Taking credit for what so many other people had done. And especially not for trying to run out on Ginny, preferring to leave her to die and save himself.

Marcus' letter turned out to be a play by play of the trial.

"Heh, guess I won't get on your bad-side," Harriet muttered as she read.

The end of the letter filled Harriet with a twinge of jealousy. Squeezed in at the bottom of the page and continued on the back was his description of travelling to Canada with Professor Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore had apparently been watching the trial and approached Marcus after to ask him to come to Canada with him.

Apparently there was a new refugee who was going to be coming; a boy in their year. Professor Dumbledore wanted Marcus along to greet the new boy and tell him what life at Hogwarts was like to help him be more comfortable with the relocation. Harriet smiled. Jealous as she was, she had to admit that Marcus was the best choice.

Marcus' present was about the size of Ronnie's, though Harriet had to admit it would probably be more useful. She had to laugh too, as despite how dissimilar Hermione and Marcus were, how similar their presents ended up being. While Hermione had given her a magical broom-stick servicing kit, Marcus had given her a magical eye-glass servicing kit.

Harriet now turned to Dora's present. Dora's letter was predictably very 'Dora.'

_Harriet,_

_Having a good time. Family's great. Thought you'd like this. I noticed last Christmas that you only had through number fifteen. So I got you number sixteen so you could keep reading. _

_Lots of Love,_

_Dora_

_P.S. Remember, if they give you any trouble: termites._

Harriet rolled her eyes again but smiled and opened Dora's present. She almost squealed with excitement. It was _The Clue of the Tapping Heels,_ the sixteenth in her Nancy Drew mystery series. Hermione had indeed only given her through fifteen and she'd already read all of them several times.

Now she turned to the last parcel. This one was from Hagrid. Her grin grew as she started to tear the present open but to her fright, something inside the package snapped and snarled.

"Oh no," Harriet muttered as the package thudded to the floor.

It didn't move anymore, and Harriet clamped her eyes shut and listened hard. She was sure the Dursleys would have heard the sound of the present dropping to the floor. To her relief, the snores continued.

Harriet looked down at the parcel again. It was no longer moving, but she cautiously took her torch from the pillow case and prepared to poke the present. Harriet didn't know what was in the package, but knowing Hagrid, it could be anything. Being twice as tall, and three times as wide as a normal man, Hagrid didn't have quite the same sense of what was dangerous as other people did.

Harriet remembered all too well how Hagrid had once smuggled an illegal dragon egg into the school. Furthermore, it was Hagrid who had taken care of Aragog the spider as a pet before the spider escaped during the first Chamber of Secrets incident. Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts over the incident and had his wand snapped in half. Even fifty years later, the lingering guilt over the incident had caused Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, to arrest Hagrid as a suspect when the Chamber was opened again last year. It was Harriet and her friends who proved Hagrid's innocence.

Harriet prodded the package. It snapped again and flopped around. Harriet bit her lip, thinking hard. She wanted to pounce on it, but she didn't want to hurt whatever it was inside. At the same time, she didn't want whatever it was to hurt her either. She spotted a piece of the packaging that had come off. She reached down and took hold of it as gently as possible. Then she leaned back and yanked as hard as she could on the paper. The package tumbled and the paper finally came off.

Harriet blinked in surprise. It was not some creature, it was a book; a large book with a handsome green cover and golden words that read _The Monster Book of Monsters_. Harriet barely had time to finish reading the title when the book jumped, flipped onto its edge and scuttled along the edge of her bed and under her desk.

"Great," Harriet muttered and lowered herself down onto the floor.

She knelt low and turned on her torch, spotting the book hiding underneath the desk. She bit her lip, thinking hard. The book seemed to be able to bite rather hard, so Harriet wasn't all that anxious to stick her hand in to attempt to grab it. She decided to turn off the torch and turn it around, attempting to prod the book out from under the desk. She poked it and the book snapped angrily and finally scuttled out into the open.

Harriet pounced, squashing the book down hard against the floor. It shuddered under her, but her weight was sufficient to keep it from snapping anymore. Harriet looked around for something to restrain the book. She slid across the floor with it, keeping it pinned, back to her bed. She pried up the loose floorboard and from it took a small coil of clothesline she had snuck from the garden shed.

She had snuck it out with other intentions in mind, but now had found a better use for it. She moved off the book just quick enough to grab it up and begin wrapping the clothesline around it. She tied it as tight as she could and tossed the book onto the bed. It shivered and struggled more before finally going motionless.

Harriet sighed in relief and finally picked up Hagrid's card.

_Dear Harriet,_

_Happy Birthday!_

_Think you'll find this useful for next year. Won't say no more here._

_Tell you when I see you._

_Hope the Muggles are treating you right._

_All the best,_

_Hagrid._

Harriet twisted her mouth in worry. The fact that Hagrid thought a book that tried to bite like an animal would come in useful was not reassuring. Remembering Norbert the baby dragon, Aragog the acromantula, and Fluffy the Cerberus, the possibilities of what horrifying new creature Hagrid had managed to procure were endless.

In spite of this, Harriet picked up all her cards and letters and put them up on her desk. She grinned warmly before she finally picked up her Hogwarts letter. It felt heavier than in previous years.

There were two pieces of parchment inside the envelope this time. The first was full of the usual information about the Hogwarts Express leaving from Platform 9¾ at eleven-o-clock on September the first. What made Harriet's heart leap, however, was the added information at the bottom of the letter.

_Third years and older are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. As a third year student, please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._

Harriet gave a soft groan as she pulled out the permission form. She would love the chance to visit Hogsmeade, but how on earth was she going to get Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign it? The Dursleys wouldn't willingly do anything that made Harriet happy if they could help it.

Harriet glanced at her alarm clock and saw it was just past two-o-clock in the morning. Knowing she couldn't do anything about the form now, Harriet put the form, her new monster book, and all of her presents into the pillow case and neatly tucked it all into the space under the loose floorboard under her bed. Then she climbed back into bed, took off her glasses, and lay facing her cards. She beamed, gave one last giggle of happiness, and finally closed her eyes.

* * *

Harriet's good feelings did not last long the next day. It wasn't the Dursleys predictably forgetting her birthday for the third year in a row. It was the news that Aunt Marge was coming to visit for an entire week. Even though Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister, and thus not a direct relative of Harriet's, she had still been forced to call her _aunt_ all her life.

If possible, Aunt Marge and Harriet hated each other even more than Harriet and Uncle Vernon did. Aunt Marge lived out in the country where she bred bulldogs, and thus did not often come to stay. However, Harriet could remember each of her visits with burning clarity.

There was Dudley's fifth birthday, when Aunt Marge would hit Harriet around the shins with her cane when no one was looking to stop Harriet from beating Dudley at musical statues. Then when Harriet was eight Aunt Marge had given Harriet dog biscuits for Christmas. During her last visit, the summer Harriet turned ten, Harriet accidently stepped on the tail of Aunt Marge's favourite bulldog, Ripper. Ripper chased Harriet up a tree and Aunt Marge didn't call Ripper off until midnight. It was one of Dudley's favourite memories.

From the moment that Aunt Marge walked in, Harriet knew it was going to be one of the worst weeks of her life. In spite of this, Harriet had seen an opportunity. Just before Uncle Vernon left to pick up Aunt Marge from the train station, Harriet stopped him, and after a slick bit of negotiating, Harriet managed to convince Uncle Vernon to sign her form for her after Aunt Marge's visit as long as Harriet was on her best behaviour during Aunt Marge's stay and promised not to say anything about her true identity as a witch.

Harriet then sent Hedwig off with Errol to stay at the Weasleys. Not that Harriet wanted to, but she didn't want to risk having Uncle Vernon sign her Hogsmeade form. Harriet was sure if Aunt Marge found out Harriet owned an owl, it would be a deal-breaker with Uncle Vernon.

As Aunt Marge entered Number Four, Harriet braced herself for the worst. Aunt Marge looked very much like Uncle Vernon to the extent she even had a moustache. Aunt Marge brushed past Harriet, shoving her suitcase into Harriet's stomach as she rushed to greet Dudley. She gave Dudley a big hug, and kiss, and a twenty-pound note.

Harriet wasted no time taking Aunt Marge's suitcase upstairs to the spare bedroom. Any time not spent in the company of Aunt Marge was a blessing. She put down the suitcase and returned to the kitchen grudgingly. Harriet was usually content to stay in her room, but she knew Aunt Marge wouldn't allow it. Aunt Marge wanted Harriet in sight at all times when she visited, ready to be criticized and picked on whenever Aunt Marge felt the urge.

The Dursleys were all sitting around the kitchen table when Harriet came back down, drinking tea and eating fruitcake. While there were five chairs around the table, there had only been four places set. Harriet was getting nothing. Even Ripper the bulldog had been given tea.

They were all talking about Aunt Marge's bulldog breeding when Harriet sat down.

"So!" Aunt Marge boomed in her most threatening voice. "Still here are you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harriet replied, trying her best to sound gracious and polite.

Aunt Marge's eyes narrowed. Harriet knew she should have replied in a snooty, rude way. It would have made Aunt Marge even happier to have an excuse to yell at her. Uncle Vernon glared at her too and Harriet smiled on the inside. She loved making Uncle Vernon squirm. She had promised to be behaved during Aunt Marge's visit, not make Aunt Marge happy.

"Where is it you go to school again, girl?" Aunt Marge growled.

"Lady Desdemona's," Uncle Vernon butted in. "A first rate institution, it's done a marvellous job as you can see."

Aunt Marge still didn't look pleased. "Very well, I'm assuming they use the cane at Lady Desdemona's?" she asked shrewdly.

Uncle Vernon shot Harriet a quick glance.

"Oh yes," Harriet said, nodding as seriously as she could. "All the time, Aunt Marge."

"Very good," Aunt Marge said and smiled. Apparently the thought of Harriet getting hit with a cane was good enough for her. "I'm so sick of this namby-pamby nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it! How often are you beaten, girl?"

"Not often anymore, Aunt Marge," Harriet said in her most pleasant tone. "I've been learning very well since I started. I never get the urge to steal or lie anymore," Harriet said, hoping the added touch would please Aunt Marge even more.

"Excellent," Aunt Marge said.

"So, did you catch the news this morning, Marge?" Uncle Vernon said, drawing the subject back off Harriet as he poured her more tea. "What about that escaped prisoner, eh?"

"He should have been put to death the moment he was declared guilty!" Aunt Marge boomed hitting her fist on the table. "Uncouth wastrel!"

Harriet grimaced. They were back on the subject of Sirius Black. Harriet had heard about his escape on the news that morning. The news had been lean on details, but being a member of the magical world, Harriet knew more about the incident than the Dursleys did. Just as Harriet was not a normal girl, Sirius Black was not a normal convict.

He was a wizard too. One of the most feared wizards of all time after Lord Voldemort. In fact, he was Lord Voldemort's second in command before the fateful night that Voldemort murdered Harriet's parents and left her with her scar. Black was even more infamous for the incident in which he murdered thirteen people with a single curse shortly before his capture. The thought of Black being on the loose filled Harriet with a twinge of dread.

"This country has gotten far too wishy-washy for me in recent years," Aunt Marge continued. "Now if this were the States we could deal with the ilk of this Black character properly!"

Aunt Marge took another sip of her tea. "Though I dare-say I don't much fancy their weather. More stupid people killed in the central states by tornadoes. Another ruddy town was wiped off the map by them last June! Everyone tries to give them sympathy but you know what I say?! If they don't want to live where there's tornadoes then they should ruddy-well move!"

Aunt Marge slammed her fist down on the table, splashing tea all over the table top. Aunt Petunia whimpered. Harriet meanwhile felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. More towns destroyed by tornadoes? Did that mean there had been more attacks? Harriet remembered how the attacks the previous summer had been reported as tornadoes. Harriet sighed. It looked like the new students were not going to be going home anytime soon.

As Aunt Marge's stay went on, Harriet couldn't help but miss life at Privet Drive without her. Despite her pleasure that Harriet was going to a school that beat her if she misbehaved, Aunt Marge still found plenty of ways to criticize Harriet. First she was irritable with Harriet over hiding her scar.

"It's the mark of how your parents died, girl! Shameful of you to hide it!"

So Harriet changed her hairstyle to show the scar.

"What are you doing parading that horrible scar around?! It's revolting!"

The problem was, the more Aunt Marge drank, the worse she got. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon had prepared ahead of time for Aunt Marge's stay, because there was no shortage of gin, wine, bourbon, brandy, rum, or scotch anywhere in the house. The worst times were when Aunt Marge found it necessary to predict Harriet's future misdeeds, or criticized Harriet's parents. Unfortunately, Aunt Marge preferred to do both at the same time.

"Well she seems good now, Vernon, but mark my words, the moment that girl gets out of that school it will be straight back to her old ways. Just like her mother, and I daresay much like her father. Probably wind up on the streets, selling herself for drugs. Her mother was probably the same way, I dare say. That's probably how she came to be in the first place!"

It happened in a flash. The wine-glass Aunt Marge was holding shattered, spraying bits of glass and wine everywhere. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both cried in shock.

"MARGE!" Aunt Petunia shrieked. "Are you alright?!"

"Oh not to worry," Aunt Marge said with a drunken wave of her hand. "I must have squeezed it too hard. Got a very firm grip! You need it raising bulldogs!"

Harriet wasted no time in sneaking off from the dinner table. She wasn't entirely sure if she had broken the glass or not. It had been a long time since she had lost control of her magic. Harriet had more to worry about than just the ability to go into Hogsmeade. If she wasn't careful, she could be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic for doing magic outside school.

The main thing that got Harriet through Aunt Marge's stay was having her homework to do, her broomstick servicing kit manual, and the copy of _The Clue of the Tapping Heels_ to pass the time at night. This worked so well that Harriet was finally starting to view Aunt Marge's stay more optimistically.

However, Harriet found out that this buffer could only carry her so far. The final night of Aunt Marge's stay tested Harriet to her breaking point. Aunt Marge had launched into another attack on the character of Harriet's parents. Harriet had been unable to do anything but sit and close her eyes at the dinner table, fighting back tears.

Aunt Marge had been relentless. She had decided to focus on Harriet's father this time. She called him a good for nothing, lazy scrounger. She said he must have been drunk when he got himself and Harriet's mother killed in the car crash. She called Harriet a burden on her decent, hard-working relatives.

Finally it had gotten too much and Harriet ran from the room.

"That's right! Run you little coward!" Aunt Marge had shouted after her, her words slurring from all the brandy she had consumed, as Harriet ran up the stairs into her bedroom and threw herself on her bed.

She did feel like a coward. She should have shouted back, she should have told Aunt Marge how her parents had actually been wealthy, how they had died like heroes saving Harriet's life. But she hadn't. Instead, she had just run.

Harriet sighed as she heard the Dursleys getting into bed. She waited until she heard the snores of Uncle Vernon, Dudley, and Aunt Marge before she slid back out of bed and pried up the loose floor-board. Quietly as she could, she pulled out her pillow-case of homework and books. However, she did not pull out any of her books this time.

Instead, she reached back into the space under the loose floorboard and pulled out the rest of the bundles of clothesline she had stolen from the garden shed. She didn't know what was driving her to do it. It was the same urge that had driven her to take them in the first place. Harriet picked two of the bundles and climbed back onto her bed. She undid one bundle, pulled her knees up to her chest, and leaned down. Her hands trembled as she started trying to tie.

After she finished, Harriet leaned back, inspecting her work. She wiggled her feet. _No… too loose_, she thought and leaned down once more, working the line again. Finally, she managed to get it to the right tightness. She then took another coil and started to tie just under her knees. They never tied this much in the books, but Harriet was sure just the ankles would not be enough to prevent an escape.

Finishing that, Harriet straightened her legs to admire the effect. _Yeah, this is much more like it_, she thought. She wriggled her legs a little more before she finally swung them out of bed. She then picked up the hair scarf that Kieran had given her for Christmas. She took another deep breath and sighed. She put it up to her mouth and pulled the ends tight behind her head, tying it down tight over her mouth like she had seen in the pictures in her Nancy Drew books.

Harriet twisted her mouth in disappointment under it. She was fairly sure she could still make a lot of noise under it, and probably still talk with perfect clarity. This clearly wasn't how it was done. She knelt and reached into the pillow case, pulling out _The Clue of the Tapping Heels_. She opened to the first page of the final chapter. Despite the picture, Nancy described the gag as being in her mouth, not over it.

Harriet looked around and saw her wardrobe. She got to her feet and hopped over as quietly as she could. She opened one of the drawers and pulled out a clean pair of socks. She pulled down the scarf, wadded up one of the socks and stuffed it in her mouth as well. It filled her mouth and held down her tongue. She retied the scarf over it. Harriet grunted and worked her jaw. _Okay, this works a lot better_, she thought and hopped back to her bed.

She sat and took another, smaller piece of rope. Harriet didn't know why, but somehow, she felt freer doing this than she had all summer. She tied the small piece of rope into a little loop, and then slipped her hands inside it. She twisted them around a little. She grunted more into the gag and wriggled.

Her mind was instantly off and racing. She'd been captured by Malfoy and his cronies of thieves. Harriet had been investigating them for a while but Malfoy finally got the jump on her using his _Hand of Glory_ that he had stolen from Borgin and Burke's. He had snuck up on her in the dark and grabbed her, hauling her into a secret room, and leaving her bound and helpless unable to call for help.

Harriet got to her feet again. She hopped to the door as quietly as she could. She tried to be quiet so as not to wake the Dursleys or Aunt Marge, but in her mind she was pretending to not alert her captors that she was trying to escape. She pretended to wriggle the handle and grunt in frustration, finding it "locked."

She looked around and spotted her desk with a pen and pad of paper on it. _Aha_, Harriet thought, _I can make a note and turn it into a paper airplane and toss it out the window!_ She grinned under the scarf and started to hop towards the desk.

It was then that all of Harriet's worst fears came true. As she reached her desk, she hopped onto part of the pillow case and it slid underneath her. Harriet lost her balance, bumping into her desk before slumping to the floor in a very loud thump. Harriet yelped in pain before she cringed. Her desk lamp had fallen over and rolled onto the hard floor beside her, where it smashed into pieces.

"What the devil?!" Uncle Vernon cried in the bedroom next to her.

Harriet scrambled frantically. She slid her hands out of the looped clothesline and tried to untie her legs. She couldn't get the knots undone. Harriet was panicking now. She heard not just Uncle Vernon's, but also Aunt Marge's loud, stamping feet coming towards her door. Harriet pulled down the scarf, spat out the sock and lifted herself back into bed as fast as she could. She pulled her covers up over her tied legs and cringed as Uncle Vernon flung the door open and turned on her light.

"What the _devil_ are you doing, girl?!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.

"Sorry!" Harriet squeaked. "I-I-I was reaching for my glasses and accidentally bumped the desk and—"

"We don't want your pathetic excuses!" Aunt Marge snapped. "Do you have any idea what time it is?! My train leaves in six hours!"

"Sorry, Aunt Marge," Harriet whimpered, praying and hoping with all her might that the situation could not possibly get worse.

It did.

Aunt Marge's little eyes moved around the room. They moved to the desk, to the lamp, then to the pillow case on the floor. And right beside it, the bundles of clothesline that Harriet had not used.

"What are you doing with that clothesline?" Aunt Marge asked.

Harriet felt her whole body trembling. She had never been so afraid in her life.

"You stole that from our shed, girl?!" Uncle Vernon asked, sounding even angrier.

"N-No," Harriet lied, not knowing what else to say.

"You little liar," Aunt Marge said, her eyes narrowing. "What's wrong with your legs?"

Harriet's heart sank. Aunt Marge reached down, grabbed Harriet's blanket and sheets and ripped them off the bed. There she was, her legs still tied, the scarf still hanging around her neck. She was caught.

"Why… you… little… _freak_!" Aunt Marge shrieked. She stepped towards Harriet and raised a hand. Harriet didn't raise her own hands in time. Aunt Marge's hand slapped her hard across the cheek, which burned in pain.

"I knew you were just like that sick mother of yours," Aunt Marge roared. "Getting your jollies off of something so depraved! You sick little freak!"

Harriet shook her head, pleading, tears filling her eyes.

"Just like your mother, a right little whore!" Aunt Marge carried on. "I'll bet this is just how she lulled that degenerate father of yours into impregnating her! Turning him on with sick, unnatural thoughts! Freak! No wonder you go to Lady Desdemona's!"

It felt like it went on for hours. It was the worst moment of Harriet's life that she could remember.

"Vernon! Write to them! Tell them they need to take her on sooner! She needs the most severe beatings they can get to knock this sick, unnaturalness out of her head! They should throw you out on the street, that's where a little freak like you belongs! Just like your freak of a mother! You should have died in that car crash with them and saved society from the wretched likes of yourself!"

Aunt Marge looked as though she was swelling with rage, and she raised her hand one more time to slap Harriet. The hand came down again but it started to slow as it approached. Harriet closed her eyes and held her hands up in front of her face.

The blow did not come. Harriet opened her eyes again. Aunt Marge was still swelling. More than swelling, she was inflating, just like a balloon. Ripper came skidding into the room and began barking madly. Uncle Vernon cried out in shock and Aunt Petunia finally came into the room.

"What on earth—MARGE!?" Aunt Petunia shrieked at the sight.

Harriet gaped as Aunt Marge continued to swell. Before long she became perfectly round, her lips and eyelids pulled tight shut. Her hands stuck out of her sides and her fingers had swollen until they looked like sausages. Finally, Aunt Marge began to float up to the ceiling, bouncing off the ceiling fan like a large, very ugly blimp.

"PUT HER RIGHT!" Uncle Vernon bellowed at Harriet, pointing up at Aunt Marge.

His yell startled Ripper and the bulldog leapt forward, chomping down hard on Uncle Vernon's ankle. Uncle Vernon cried out in pain and Petunia screamed trying to pull Ripper off.

It was at that moment that everything stopped. Ripper continued to snarl and tug on Uncle Vernon's ankle but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both froze and looked at the door. Harriet's sight of the door was blocked by the bulk of Uncle Vernon and the inflated Aunt Marge. But she heard a deep and very familiar voice speak from the doorway.

"Good morning! Sherman Horne, Accidental Magic Reversal Squad at your service!"


	3. To Glen Raglan

Chapter 3

To Glen Raglan

"Yes. Sticks and stones can break bones. However, it is much easier to heal bones than the soul, and only words can damage the soul."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

"A-accidental—" Aunt Petunia started to ask. She was cut off by Ripper's yelp when Uncle Vernon gave his leg a violent shake to dislodge his teeth.

"Accidental Magic Reversal Squad," the unseen Mr Horne repeated.

Uncle Vernon backed away from Ripper and Harriet finally saw the newcomer stride into the room. She had expected Headmaster Sherrod Howe by the voice, but that was not who she saw. The man had a different nose, wore overlarge spectacles that made his eyes look half their normal size, and his usually fly-away hair was slicked back. He wore gaudy, sunshine-yellow robes with _MoM_ emblazoned on a small shield on the left breast. Ripper growled at him but made no effort to attack.

Despite the changed appearance, Harriet was absolutely sure that it was Professor Howe. Her suspicions were confirmed when he glanced at her and gave her the tiniest of winks. In spite of everything that had happened, Harriet felt her heart lift. The only person in the world who could have made her feel more relieved at that very moment would have been Albus Dumbledore.

To Harriet's surprise another man stepped into view behind Professor Howe. This man was taller and more slender in build. He had short, brown hair, a high widow's peak and a very neatly trimmed moustache. He was wearing the same colour robes as Professor Howe. Harriet noted he had a cane, but did not seem to be leaning on it.

Uncle Vernon turned to the new man. Despite wearing robes, Harriet supposed the dignified way the man carried himself, combined with a cane and moustache, made Uncle Vernon gravitate more towards the newcomer than Professor Howe.

Uncle Vernon's tone remained quite rude. "What is this? What are you doing in my house?!" he demanded.

"As my colleague said," the new man replied, "we are from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. Occasionally young witches and wizards are pressed to performing magic unintentionally. This most typically happens when the young witch or wizard is undergoing a _severe_ emotional trauma."

He put strong emphasis on 'severe' and Harriet could not help but notice his eyes dart up to Aunt Marge and back. Harriet blinked. How could he have known Aunt Marge had been attacking her? Had the two men been watching the house?

"When this happens," the new man went on, "we are called in to undo the magic and return everything to a state of normality. For instance, we are here to deflate your sister, Miss Marjorie Dursley, and take young Miss Potter off of your hands for the time being."

The new man spoke in a very prim, proper voice. For some reason he put her in mind of an army officer, or perhaps a doctor. Harriet felt her heart lift, '_take young Miss Potter off your hands_…?'

"Oh, I-I see," Uncle Vernon stammered.

"Quite. So my colleague, Mister Horne, will attend to Miss Marjorie Dursley, and I shall attend to Miss Potter's injuries," the man continued.

"Injuries?!"

"Yes injuries. I see a very clear redness on her left cheek which looks very much as though it was left by an impact, most likely a slap given the distinct four digit imprint."

Harriet felt her cheek. It was still hot to the touch and stung as she touched it.

"I-I-I see," Uncle Vernon muttered.

"Yes, Mister Dursley," Mr Horne said stepping forward. "Believe it or not, we in the magical world do not take kindly to abusive behaviour towards children of any kind, be they magical or Muggle."

Uncle Vernon swallowed and his face was beginning to turn puce. "Now look here—"

"I should also note the large bruise forming on her right thigh, Mister Dursley," the new man added.

Harriet looked down at her thigh and blushed realizing she was still only wearing a t-shirt and her underwear. She hugged her chest tighter. She was starting to feel ashamed again. Uncle Vernon's face began to turn green.

"Abuse is a very serious crime, Mister Dursley," Mr Horne said. He sounded grave, but Harriet could not help but feel an underlying note of anger.

"Abuse?!" Uncle Vernon snapped. "We've spent our hard earned money and given up valuable living space for—"

"Allowing her the barest minimum to stay alive and actually function as a human being should, I am sure," the new man said. "You are aware that emotional and psychological abuse are treated as equal to physical abuse under the law, Mister Dursley? And I believe with the slap-mark and bruise we easily have evidence of three forms of abuse going on at once."

"And even if we cannot directly prosecute you for the abuses, we can very easily notify Muggle authorities, who I am sure, will look into the matter quite closely. You enjoy living here at Number Four, Privet Drive, do you not, Mister Dursley? You enjoy your reputation as a respectable business man? Funny how rapidly that can change, isn't it? One moment you are on top of the world, and the next you are disgraced," Mr Horne said gravely.

"Are you threatening me?" Uncle Vernon growled. His fat hands curled into fists.

"Oh no, we are not threatening you, Mister Dursley. Merely informing you of the consequences should this activity continue," the new man said.

Harriet could see the wheels in Uncle Vernon's head spin as he looked back and forth between the two men.

"Is that understood, Mister Dursley?" Mr Horne pressed.

Uncle Vernon did not respond right away. His mouth was moving as though he was trying to form words. Aunt Petunia was looking back and forth between her husband and the two men, her eyes wide with fear.

Finally, Uncle Vernon growled, "Understood."

"Marvellous!" Mr Horne said clapping his hands together merrily.

There was the sound of Dudley's door opening down the hall. She heard Dudley's groggy voice. "What's goin' on?" he asked. Harriet heard him waddling down the hall towards her room. He stepped into the doorway and blinked, his eyes going wide in shock. "Who're you two?"

"Wizards!" Mr Horne exclaimed.

Dudley gasped, grabbed his four foot-wide buttocks and waddled as quickly as he could back down the hall to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Mr Horne grinned. As he did, the man Harriet didn't know strode past Uncle Vernon towards her. She pulled back a little by instinct and he paused, holding up his hands.

"Shhh… it's alright, dear. We're here to help. No one's going to hurt you anymore," he said kneeling down beside her bed. Harriet noticed him wince.

He held out his arms slowly and smiled. "Come here, Harriet, it's alright."

Harriet looked over at Mr Horne, who gave her an encouraging nod. Harriet held out her arms which she noticed were shaking and put them around the new man's neck. He scooped one arm under her tied legs and the other under her back lifting her gently from the bed. Though he lifted her easily, Harriet heard him grunt in pain as he got to his feet.

Even if Harriet had never met this man before, she felt safe with him and rested her head on his shoulder. He carried her from the room, down the hall, and down the stairs to the sitting room. He sat her down on the sofa and knelt again in front of her. She was still shaking.

"It's alright, Harriet," he said in his soft, calming voice. "My name is Jefferson Watkins. I am the Deputy headmaster at Rathlin, and a long-time friend of Headmaster Howe, who is, incidentally, Mr Horne. I'm sure you were completely fooled by his _brilliant_ disguise," the man said in an ever-suffering voice. "I'm also a doctor, and I'm going to take care of you, okay?"

Harriet felt her lip trembling and tears welling in her eyes. She yelped and leapt forward into the man's arms again at a sudden loud popping noise from upstairs. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon cried out in shock and Ripper began barking again. She heard the squealing sound of a balloon letting out all its air rapidly and a loud thumping noise. There was a snarl and Uncle Vernon shouted in pain. Ripper had bitten Uncle Vernon again.

Harriet leaned back, embarrassed that she was still so vulnerable and jumpy. She kept fighting back sniffles as she watched Doctor Watkins undo the clothesline from her legs for her and reach into a satchel at his side. He pulled out a bottle with the words _Belknapp's Brilliant Bump and Bruise Balm_ on the label and opened the top. He applied some of the balm to a soft pad contained in the lid.

"I'm just going to apply this to your bruise, is that alright?" he asked, still speaking in a soft, calming voice.

Harriet felt her shoulders jump in a suppressed sob and she nodded. She had never felt so terrible in her life. Aunt Marge's words kept flowing through her mind, stabbing at her. Tears clouded her vision as she heard them over and over again. _Freak. Degenerate. Whore._ She felt dirty again. She felt even dirtier than when she had learned Riddle was invading her dreams.

"Shhh…" Doctor Watkins said and gently rested a hand on Harriet's cheek. "It's alright. You were told some very, very horrible things tonight but they're not true… there is nothing wrong with you, Harriet… nothing at all. It's okay to be upset, anyone would be."

Harriet sniffled and nodded. She wanted to believe him, she really did. But the pain was still too close in her chest for her to believe him fully.

"There, all better," she heard him say and she felt a soft cloth gently dabbing away her tears.

Harriet blushed. She'd been so distracted she hadn't even felt him apply the balm. The pain in her leg was gone, as was the bruise.

"Thank you…" she said, so quietly she could barely hear herself.

Professor Howe came down the stairs, and as he did the door to the cupboard under the stairs opened on its own and her trunk and broomstick flew out and over to Harriet and Doctor Watkins. The trunk lip popped open and her broomstick settled itself beside her on the sofa.

Upstairs, Harriet heard Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon shout out in surprise. Harriet watched her books, her presents, her cards, her clothes, Hedwig's old cage, even the bundles of clothesline come flying down the stairs. The items all fitted themselves neatly into her trunk, with the exception of Hedwig's cage and a pair of jeans, socks, and her trainers. The trunk closed and Hedwig's cage set down gently on top of it while the clothes landed in Harriet's lap.

Professor Howe flicked his wand again and the trunk, her broomstick, and Hedwig's cage vanished. "Well, Harriet, if you wouldn't mind getting dressed, we will be taking you the place you'll be spending the rest of your holidays now," Professor Howe said, smiling warmly.

"Wh-where are you taking me?" Harriet asked.

"Someplace safe, with people who care for you," Doctor Watkins said smiling.

"The Weasleys?!" Harriet asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

The smiles on both men's faces fell for the briefest of moments. "Unfortunately the Weasleys are still on their holiday in Egypt," Professor Howe said. "Though trust me, were that not the case they would be our first choice. No, we found another even more secure location to take you."

Harriet blinked and the two men turned their backs to her.

"Go ahead and get dressed, Harriet. We won't look. You've suffered enough tonight," Doctor Watkins said.

Harriet nodded and dressed as quickly as she could. She was impeded by the fact she was still shaking from the stress of everything that had happened. "Finished," she said and the two men turned back, still smiling.

Harriet heard the sound of feet coming down the stairs. Uncle Vernon came in looking just as livid as ever. Both legs of his pyjama pants were now in bloody tatters.

"Right, she's forgotten the whole thing, thinks she just drank too much. Now I want you out of my house!" Uncle Vernon demanded.

"Ah-ah-ah, just one moment," Professor Howe said and produced a piece of parchment and a quill from nowhere. Harriet blinked looking at it and just barely stopped herself from gasping. It was her Hogsmeade permission form.

"I just need you to sign this release form so we may take Harriet off your hands," Professor Howe said. He once again gave Harriet the very subtlest of winks.

Uncle Vernon scowled and took the quill and parchment. He seemed so eager to be rid of Harriet he signed without even looking at the parchment. It wasn't until he handed it back that he started to wise up. "Wait a moment… I recognize that form…"

"Oh I'm sure you do," Professor Howe said grinning pleasantly.

Uncle Vernon was about to say something more when suddenly the doorbell rang. "Who is it now?!" He snarled angrily.

"Accidental Magic Reversal Squad," called a friendly voice from behind the door.

"Oh dear," Professor Howe said.

"That was faster than expected," Doctor Watkins mumbled.

Harriet looked back and forth between them. Uncle Vernon did too and dawning comprehension swept over his face. "Accidental Magic Reversal Squad? Isn't that who _you two_ are supposed to be?" Uncle Vernon growled through gritted teeth.

Professor Howe looked at his pocket-watch. "Got a plan?"

"Yep. Run for it." Doctor Watkins said.

"Knew there was a reason I keep you around," Professor Howe said re-pocketing his watch.

"Had to be at least one."

Without another word, Professor Howe grabbed Harriet's hand pulling her along as both men ran for the back door. Harriet could hear Uncle Vernon shouting indistinctly after them as the door flung itself open and all three darted through it one after another without slowing down. They hopped the garden fence, ran through the next garden, and out into the next street.

There they turned and started running west. Harriet was trying her best to keep up with the two men but it was difficult as their legs were so much longer than hers. She looked up at them and to her surprise saw both of them were grinning as though they were having the time of their lives.

"Just like old times then," Professor Howe said, sounding out of breath as they kept going.

"Just like last month I think would be more appropriate," Doctor Watkins gasped.

In spite of everything, the sight of their grinning faces and their laughing banter finally made Harriet smile for the first time since her birthday. Eventually they paused after running what felt like a mile. Harriet's lungs burned and she doubled over, hands on her knees gasping. Doctor Watkins was grunting in pain, a hand on his hip as he leaned very heavily on his cane.

"Think we lost them?" Doctor Watkins asked through gritted teeth.

"We probably did the moment we left the back door, but better to be safe and all that," Professor Howe gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Both men broke down laughing slapping each other's backs. Harriet grinned too but paused as she looked back towards the Dursleys. There, galloping after them down the middle of the road, lit up by a street lamp, was the biggest dog Harriet had ever seen. It was jet-black, with sharp, pointed ears and its eyes glinted bright green. It halted as it spotted Harriet watching and simply stared back at her. It was an eerie feeling. Even at this distance Harriet got a sense of intelligence from the dog. She didn't know why, but she was completely convinced the dog was following them.

Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins stopped laughing when they saw it. Professor Howe put a hand on Harriet's shoulder.

"Come on, Harriet, nothing to be afraid of… just a dog," he said clearly trying to sound casual.

"That's… that's not an ordinary dog," Harriet said.

Professor Howe sighed. "No, it is not."

"Then what is it?"

"A Black Dog," Professor Howe said. "Britain's full of them."

"A Black Dog?"

"Yes, a Gurt Dog by the looks of it," Professor Howe said. He cleared his throat and called out to the dog. "The girl is safe with us. You are not needed tonight!"

Harriet watched in amazement as the dog took one more step towards them, clearly debating continuing to follow them. It looked away, then back, then away again and finally turned and trotted off out of the street light and into the night.

Professor Howe smiled down at her. "It's a sign of good fortune. Gurt Dogs protect travellers, especially children. Formidable looking but it's meant to be to ward away those who would do harm to the innocent and defenceless. Many say that Black Dogs are ill omens," Professor Howe continued, "but they're mostly misunderstood. They're big and scary so people like to attach dark names to them: Barguist, the Grim, Gytrash, Padfoot."

"Well Padfoot's not terribly scary," Harriet admitted with a shrug. Professor Howe's explanation of what the creature was made her wish the dog was still there. It seemed interesting now, and if it was a good omen she wasn't anxious for it to leave after all that had happened.

"Well then, fastest way to get from one end of the country to the other…" Professor Howe trailed off as he drew his wand again. He didn't cast a charm with it. Instead, he stuck his wand out, using his right hand, and flicked it upwards as if hitchhiking.

Harriet only had a single second to register this when there was an ear-splitting bang and her vision was blocked by a bright purple wall that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Harriet took a step back and looked up realizing it was not a wall, but a bright-purple, triple-decker bus.

From the door hopped a young man in a conductor's uniform the same garish shade of purple as the bus. He looked to be eighteen or nineteen, with copper hair, protruding ears, and more than a few spots.

His voice cracked a couple times as he spoke. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for—"

"We know, Stan," Professor Howe said cutting the boy off. "Three passengers. Top floor. One bed. One hot chocolate. Let us off last. No questions asked. You never saw us get on. You never served us that hot chocolate. You never saw us get off."

Professor Howe handed Stan a small but heavy sack that clinked as though it was full of galleons. Stan's face twisted into a knowing grin and he winked. "Say no more, gov'! Don't welcome aboard the Knight Bus! Don't make your way to the top floor. I won't be up with your hot chocolate and I most certainly will not see you off in the morning on our last stop!" Stan said and stepped aside.

Doctor Watkins climbed in first and Harriet followed, with Professor Howe taking up the rear. Stan hopped in and shut the door tight behind them. Harriet was led up two flights of spiralling stairs to the top of the bus, which was empty.

They led Harriet to a bed and each took seats in comfy armchairs next to it. Stan brought up the hot chocolate and handed it to Harriet.

As he bent down, he suddenly looked suspicious. "'ang on… aren't—"

"I believe the condition was no questions," Doctor Watkins said, warning in his voice.

Stan's face went a little white and he simply bowed and headed back towards the stairs. Professor Howe grinned and took a tighter hold of his chair. "Hold on."

Harriet was about to ask what he meant, but she did not get the chance. The moment she opened her mouth, the bus lurched forward, knocking her onto her side and dropping her hot chocolate to the floor.

* * *

Harriet didn't know how long she had been sleeping. She didn't remember falling asleep, or even lying down. What's more, once she woke up, she wasn't sure exactly how she could have fallen asleep in the first place. First of all, her mind was still full of the memories of everything that had happened that night. Second of all, she was still on a bus that seemed to be careening across the countryside, shaking and swerving violently.

Looking out the window, Harriet saw it was nearly dawn. Trees and buildings whipped past the window as though the bus was moving hundreds of miles an hour. Harriet looked around to see the tired but smiling faces of Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins looking back at her from their armchairs beside her bed. She noted that both of them had removed their sunshine-yellow robes in favour of normal clothes. She also saw that Professor Howe had returned all his features back to normal and ditched the oversized spectacles.

"Goodness, you slept well," Professor Howe said, stretching and cracking his knuckles.

"I—I guess I did," Harriet muttered, reaching up and redoing her pony-tail. "Where are we?"

"Aboard the Knight Bus, nearly to our destination of Glen Raglan," Professor Howe said cheerily.

"Glen Raglan?" Harriet asked.

"Yes, a safe place," Professor Howe said. He looked down and leaned over a chess-set, studying it intently. It looked to be a perfectly normal chess-set. Unlike Wizard's Chess, the pieces did not look as though they could move. However, the moment Harriet thought that, the pieces began to slide around the board, moving in patterns she could not decipher, but it seemed to make sense to Professor Howe.

"Message from Morrisey," he muttered to Doctor Watkins.

"What's that?" Doctor Watkins asked, lowering the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ he was holding.

"Albus just found out. So did the Minister. They're not happy," Professor Howe said, sitting back in his chair with the faintest hint of a grin.

Doctor Watkins chuckled. "Not happy about what? About what that woman did to Harriet or that we removed her from Privet Drive without informing them?"

"Can't it be both?" Professor Howe replied, his grin widening.

Doctor Watkins rolled his eyes and resumed reading his newspaper. Harriet looked at the large picture on the front page. It was Sirius Black again. Harriet shivered at the sight of his gaunt, skeletal face.

There was something very unsettling about Black. It wasn't just his thin and waxy skin or his long, shaggy, unwashed hair. It was his eyes. If his eyes weren't moving back and forth, Harriet would have thought it was a Muggle picture. The worst part, though, was the deep, burning anger glittering in the eyes.

"S-so, he's still on the loose, huh?" Harriet asked.

Doctor Watkins looked at the front page and Professor Howe furrowed his brow. "Ah, yes. Yes he still is it seems," Professor Howe said.

Harriet looked at Professor Howe, biting her lip, thinking. "Is he… is he really as dangerous as everyone's said?" she asked. If Black had been capable of killing thirteen people with a single curse before spending twelve years in Azkaban, Harriet hated to think of what he would be capable of now.

Professor Howe's lips tightened. "Well that's an interesting question. He is _unpredictable_, which makes him rather dangerous. You see Harriet that is part of the reason we are relocating you."

Harriet blinked. "What?"

"It seems to be the standing theory that you are one of two people who Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban to come after," Professor Howe explained.

Harriet's eyes widened. "M-me? But why? What does he have against me?"

Immediately, she wished she hadn't asked, as she felt rather stupid. If Sirius Black had been Lord Voldemort's right-hand man, then of course he would want to come after Harriet in revenge. However, Professor Howe did not seem to mind.

"It's a delicate matter, Harriet," Professor Howe said, but he paused as Doctor Watkins cleared his throat. "What?" he asked.

"I thought we'd discussed this?" Doctor Watkins asked, not looking up from his paper.

"We did and I thought we agreed my plan was best."

"No we discussed it and agreed my plan was the more prudent, at which point you apparently decided to go ahead anyway."

"I certainly did not. I wouldn't tell her such delicate information on the Knight Bus," Professor Howe said in a placating tone, leaving Doctor Watkins looking somewhat relieved.

Professor Howe smiled at Harriet. "I'll tell her when we arrive."

"Howe!"

There was no time to reply as the Knight Bus screeched to a halt. Harriet was thrown onto her back and felt the bed skid a couple of feet towards the front of the bus. The conductor, Stan Shunpike, poked his head up over the edge of the spiral staircase, rather like a spotty, purple gopher.

"Here you aren't!" Stan said in a cheery tone. "This is not Glen Raglan, and it's not our final stop of the night—"

"Thank you, Stan, we got the point," Doctor Watkins said getting to his feet.

Harriet stood and Professor Howe vanished his chess set. The three climbed down the spiral staircase after Stan and disembarked from the bus. The bus gave off a loud bang and vanished as it rocketed away, too fast to be seen.

"Well, here we are then," Professor Howe said. He pointed to a wooded lane. She tilted her head back and gasped seeing a large, ornate sign that stretched over the lane. As Harriet looked closer her eyes went even wider in the realization it was not a sign, but two trees that had been grown together, their branches spelling the words "Glen Raglan."

"Off we go," Professor Howe said and put a hand on Harriet's shoulder, guiding her down the lane. The trees were so thick that it blocked all light from the coming dawn and Professor Howe had to draw his wand to light the path. Somewhere nearby Harriet could hear the rushing of a river. After about five minutes they rounded a corner and Harriet's jaw fell open. They had come to a large, exquisite manor house.

The manor was made of white brick, with a high, grey, gabled roof. The edges of the gables were lined with battlements and there were chimneys everywhere. The corners of the manor were tall turrets, topped with pointed roofs and intricate spires. Here and there on the walls were bay windows. What was even more amazing was the way it seemed to spring right up from the middle of a river that acted as a sort of moat around the building, with a small drawbridge covering the large front door. Over both was another banner with the words "McIntyre Manor".

"Wow…" Harriet gasped. "Who-who lives—wait… McIntyre?!"

Both men simply smiled down at her in reply when the little drawbridge began lowering, setting down on their side of the bank as they approached. The front door opened and four people stepped out and waved eagerly. They were silhouetted by the light behind them but as Harriet, Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins started across the drawbridge Harriet saw it was Scott and Kieran's parents.

"Well hello Miss Potter!" Mister McIntyre said in a boisterous, jovial tone. "Welcome to our home!"

"We're so glad you made it safe," Mrs McIntyre said as she and Mrs O'Brien rushed forward to hug Harriet.

Harriet was pleased, but quite taken aback at this greeting. While Mr McIntyre was still beaming, Mr O'Brien was looking anxious as he shook hands with Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins. She wondered if they were worried about Sirius Black.

"Now, let us get inside b'fore anything else," Mr O'Brien said.

"Quite agree," Doctor Watkins said and they all stepped inside.

Harriet looked around eagerly. "Where's Scott?" she asked and looked at the O'Brien's. "Is Kieran here too?"

"Scott's still asleep, dear," Mrs McIntyre said. "We knew that you were going to be brought straight here if something were to happen, but we didn't know if or when that would be."

"And Kieran is back at our house," Mrs O'Brien said. "We live in the little house right across the road."

"Headmaster Howe sent a message ahead to us that you were finally coming at the same time he sent your belongings, but Scott had already nodded off by then," Mr McIntyre said. "Are you hungry? We can get you some breakfast. Our new cook is fantastic. Or just a little bite if you would like to get some sleep?"

"I… I am a little hungry," Harriet admitted. "But I am pretty tired."

"Good, good," Mr McIntyre said merrily. "Whichever would suit you best. You are a guest in our home. Your comfort and safety are our only concern."

They passed through a large room that reminded Harriet of the entrance hall at Hogwarts, but not nearly as big, and made of bright red wood instead of stone. There was a large wooden staircase leading up to the second floor, with doors on the far wall and both of the side doors.

They followed Mr and Mrs McIntyre down a long hallway. It was lit by silver candelabras and lined with portraits. Harriet was surprised to see that at least half of them seemed to be perfectly normal Muggle portraits, unlike magical ones where the occupants could move and talk.

Mr McIntyre stopped and opened a door leading off the hall. They all stepped through and Harriet found herself in a sitting room. Everyone took seats around a large coffee table, Mrs McIntyre directing Harriet towards the most comfortable of the armchairs.

"Well," Mr McIntyre said as he took a seat. "I suppose you'd like to know why exactly you're here?"

Harriet nodded.

"Well," he looked at Professor Howe who gave a single nod. "It's… it's not a happy story, Harriet." Despite his jovial appearance when she had arrived, Mr McIntyre now looked very grave. "Well, you see, it involves Sirius Black."

Harriet nodded. "Yeah… Professor Howe said that he was after me."

"Well, aye," Mr O'Brien said. "But it's more complicated than that, love."

"How so?" Harriet asked. She was starting to feel more worried.

"Once upon a time, Sirius Black and your father were best friends," Professor Howe said.

Mr O'Brien, Mrs O'Brien and Mrs McIntyre all gave Professor Howe a disapproving look, but he kept looking past them at Harriet, unabashed. Mr McIntyre merely looked as though he had lock jaw. Judging by the looks on all the other faces, this was not what Mr O'Brien had been about to say.

"W-what?"

"Yes, the best of friends. He was even best-man in your father's wedding. And after that, he apparently became a spy for Lord Voldemort," Professor Howe went on.

Predictably, everyone in the room except her, Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins shivered to hear Lord Voldemort's name. However, something about that statement seemed odd.

"Wait… he was my dad's friend for that long and then he became a spy?"

"Well, no one knows exactly when he became a spy," Professor Howe said casually. "There are theories of course."

"Yes… there are _theories_," Doctor Watkins said with a tone of warning in his voice.

"Didn't… didn't anyone question him about it?" Harriet asked, trying to comprehend what she was being told.

"Funnily enough, no one did," Professor Howe said. "He was arrested after the incident in which thirteen people were killed and sent straight to Azkaban without trial."

There was a moment's silence after this. The O'Briens and the McIntyres were looking at Professor Howe with surprise. Apparently even they did not know that bit of information.

"Without a trial?" Harriet asked.

"Indeed," Professor Howe said. He sounded oddly bitter. "Anyway, long story short, his ties to your father is an unfortunate connection that you have with Black and I believe it is dictating his current actions. The Minister of Magic and Professor Dumbledore do not want you to know this information," Professor Howe said. "They are under the strange delusion it will keep you 'happy' to remain ignorant. However, I think you have it in you to handle this information. You have the right to know."

Harriet didn't react. She was still trying to process it all. "But… why…? What actions…? How does everyone know he's after me anyway?" Harriet asked. Now that she was getting at least some answers, she wanted more.

"Apparently, before his escape, Black had been talking in his sleep for nearly a month. Granted most prisoners in Azkaban go mad and talk in their sleep but this was different," Professor Howe said. "He muttered three phrases in particular over and over again; 'save Harriet,' 'he's at Hogwarts,' and 'kill the traitor.'"

Harriet furrowed her brow. "Save me…? From what?"

Mr O'Brien grimaced. "What we think it means is he wishes to turn you to the Dark Arts."

Harriet chewed her lip in thought. "T-turn me to the Dark Arts? Even though I defeated Lord Voldemort?"

"Even though you defeated Lord Voldemort or _because_ you defeated Lord Voldemort?" Professor Howe asked darkly. "You are powerful, clever, and gifted Harriet, never forget that."

Harriet shivered and hugged her chest, looking at her knees which were bouncing from her anxiety. "But… why…?" she asked, greatly regretting having the conversation.

"Well, you already said it. You stopped Lord Voldemort," Mr O'Brien said. "That can mean one of two things to a mind like Black's… either kill you for revenge… or that you are an even more powerful witch to follow than Lord Voldemort was."

Harriet grimaced. There it was again. Just like Professor Dumbledore had told her at the end of last term. Inside everyone there was the capacity to do great good and great evil. But Harriet just wanted to live. Of course she wanted to do good, but she certainly didn't want to do evil of any kind.

Mr O'Brien leaned forward and put a hand on Harriet's shoulder. "The Dark Arts are a terrible thing, Harriet," he said. "Those who follow them are capable of the greatest evil. The lives of others mean absolutely nothing to them. All that matters is their own power. But that is a reflection of who Black is, not you."

"But…" Harriet was thinking hard. "Why did he become a spy after all that time? Or was he a spy the whole time?"

"Those are very good questions," Professor Howe said, enigmatically.

"Well… we… we can't answer those questions really," Mrs McIntyre said awkwardly and patted Harriet's hand. "What matters is you're safe."

Harriet shook her head as though shaking off a fly. That was too much to take in at once, so she changed the subject. "But… those last two can't be about me… I mean he named me but—"

"Well… if Voldemort had spies in our ranks, we certainly had spies of our own in his," Professor Howe said. "One of those spies works at Hogwarts today. The Ministry believes that the spy is the 'traitor' Black is referring to. And it is he who is in far greater danger of being murdered than you in my opinion. However, the Ministry continues to believe that you are Black's primary target, as he did name you."

"But _you_ don't think he's out to kill me?" Harriet asked.

"No, I do not," Professor Howe said.

Harriet glanced around at the other faces. No one looked convinced of Professor Howe's theory. Harriet spoke up again. "I just… I don't get it… why would he want to turn me instead of kill me? Not that I want him to kill me, but I don't want him to try and turn me to the Dark Arts either!"

"Well, there is the problem. He's unpredictable. After so many years in Azkaban, it is impossible to know just how unhinged he has become. I was not allowed to make a proper study of him while he was in custody. But you see what has everyone the most worried about the situation is not only was Sirius Black the best-man in your parents' wedding, but after you were born he was even at your christening—"

"Professor Howe! Really!" Mrs McIntyre spluttered in shock.

"That is enough!" Mrs O'Brien agreed.

Both were glaring at Professor Howe. Mr O'Brien looked as though he agreed with the two women, but he seemed resigned to the truth now that it was out.

"He… he was at my christening…?" Harriet asked, mouth gaping.

Mr O'Brien sighed. "Yes…" he said miserably. "Irene and I were there that day," he gave a short, mirthless laugh. "So was Kieran come to think of it, but he was nought but three months. Anyway, yes… it's so strange now… remembering that day… Black seemed so genuinely happy… he was crying…"

"So that's why we've been keeping a rather close eye on you since the escape," Professor Howe butted in. "Because he may try anything… he may in fact be out to kill you in revenge, or to convert you, frankly we just cannot be sure."

Harriet shivered and hugged her legs even tighter, rocking. This was too much, this was way too much. She wished they hadn't told her, not after all that had happened last night. She didn't want to know that Sirius Black had been friends with her father, or the best-man in their wedding, or at Harriet's christening. She didn't want anything to do with him. She didn't want him to take her away or to kill her. She just wanted to smile and be happy for a change.

"We know this is hard, Harriet, but personally, I—I agree with Professor Howe. I believe it is better for you to be told this in a controlled environment with people who care for you, rather than hearing about it elsewhere. With everything going on, I think it is inevitable that you will learn all this information eventually. Just know that we're here for you, and we'll do all we can to protect you and make you happy while you're here," Mr McIntyre said, doing his best to smile.

Harriet shivered again and fished around for something else to talk about.

"So, who is the spy?" she asked.

Professor Howe started to respond when the door to the room opened again. Harriet turned, expecting to see Scott but instead saw no one there. She blinked in confusion when she heard a very familiar voice speak from somewhere near her elbow and the smell of fresh quiche, sausages and tea filled her nose. She looked down to see what appeared to be a floating silver tray that was indeed laden with quiche and sausages and tea.

"Breakfast, Sir and Lady," said the unmistakable voice of—

"DOBBY!?" Harriet gasped at the floating food tray next to her. It lifted and Harriet saw the tell-tale tennis-ball green eyes, pointy nose, and bat ears of Dobby the house-elf.

Dobby's overlarge eyes went, if possible, even wider and before Harriet even saw what happened the tray of food was rattling on the coffee table and Dobby had leapt up, hugging Harriet tight around the chest and sobbing in happiness.

"Oh Harriet Potter! Dobby never thought he would see you again so soon!"

Harriet looked up at the McIntyres who were beaming back.

"W-when… how?"

"Well… the poor dear turned up on our doorstep looking for work," Mrs McIntyre said smiling down at Dobby.

"_Proper_ work," Mr McIntyre added, his eyes twinkling.

"With _paying_ and _everything_ Harriet Potter!" Dobby said, his eyes reverent as he looked back at Mr and Mrs McIntyre. "My new Sir and Lady give Dobby ten galleons a week! Dobby wanted less, Miss, but they said to Dobby they would put it in his account whether he wanted it or not, so Dobby had better accept it or it would all go to waste! Dobby is saving it, Miss; Dobby thinks it will do great good some day! And Dobby gets one day off per week!"

"And such wonderful tales he told too of the sweet, kind, brave, and good young lady who freed him from his cruel former owners," Mr McIntyre chuckled and winked. "I can't imagine who he could have been referring to."

Dobby's eyes welled up with more tears. "Oh yes, Miss, oh yes… Dobby is so much happier here. Such kind and wonderful wizards… young Master McIntyre is so kind and keeps his room so clean so as not to inconvenience Dobby… never has Dobby known so many wizards who cared for him so much…"

Mrs O'Brien smiled now. "You are a person, too, Dobby… someday the rest of the world will see that too."

Dobby beamed. So did Harriet. All her dark thoughts about Sirius Black, Lord Voldemort, her parents' death and Aunt Marge's attack had vanished with Dobby's arrival. Dobby had found work like he always wanted with some of the nicest people Harriet knew. She was free from the Dursleys for the rest of the summer, staying with some of her best friends. And best of all, Professor Howe had tricked Uncle Vernon into signing her Hogsmeade permission form for her. All in all, it was shaping up already to be one of the best summers Harriet had ever had.


	4. The Best Summer

Chapter 4

The Best Summer

"While secrets between friends are never good, often times when someone does not want to tell you something, they have a very, very good reason not to do so."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

Harriet couldn't fall back asleep. She felt just like she had when she arrived at the Weasleys' the summer before. She was just too excited to sleep. After Professor Howe, Doctor Watkins and the O'Briens left Mr and Mrs McIntyre showed Harriet to her room.

It was just as beautiful as the rest of the house. The walls had been painted a deep, forest green with a sky-blue ceiling. The furniture was made of the same reddish cherry wood as the stairs in the entrance chamber. The bed was enormous, with a green tartan comforter and a tall headboard covered in an intricate engraving. The colour scheme made Harriet giggle in spite of herself. It felt like she was in the middle of a forest.

Harriet stepped closer to study the engraving. It showed a tall, stately man with a stern, purposeful, bearded face. He was wearing a long, almost ankle length tunic with a stylized lion on the chest. His arms were covered by chainmail sleeves gauntlets, his legs by chainmail leggings and matching greaves. He wore a chainmail coif on his head a crown with spade points running around the top.

A thirty year-old man knelt at his feet. He was not wearing any armour, dressed simply in peasant clothing; cloth tunic and leggings and tattered, leather shoes. The standing man, who Harriet could only assume was a king of some kind, was laying a sword across the young man's shoulder.

"Our ancestor, Cynwrig McIntyre," Mr McIntyre said smiling, "receiving his knighthood from Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland, in 1319."

"Cynwrig McIntyre?" Harriet asked.

"Aye, he was a simple Irish soldier who fought gallantly in support of Edward the Bruce, Robert's brother, when Edward led a campaign to reclaim Ireland from the English," Mr McIntyre explained. "Cynwrig fought with Edward from the beginning of the campaign in 1315 to the Battle of Faughart in 1318, where Edward lost his life and the campaign came to an end. Cynwrig was singled out for his gallantry in the campaign and the King rewarded Cynwrig with a knighthood and the land of Glen Raglan."

"Was the manor here too?" Harriet asked. She was starting to find the information very interesting. She had known Scott's family went back a long ways, and they were obviously wealthy, but she'd never known how wealthy or how far back.

"No," Mrs McIntyre said looking around the room. "The Manor was built some time later. Ground was broken in 1536 wasn't it, Dorian?"

"Aye, just after magic finally sprouted up in the family."

Harriet looked back at the engraving of Cynwrig, thinking. "So your family wasn't originally wizards?"

Mrs McIntyre smiled. "No, Cynwrig was a Muggle, dear."

Harriet nodded. A bed seemed an odd place for such a dedication to someone so important to the family, but Harriet supposed it wasn't her place to comment. The king did look rather imposing, but Harriet supposed that falling asleep with a king watching over her wouldn't be so bad.

It also turned on a light in Harriet's memory. She remembered Riddle calling the McIntyres the "worst of blood-traitors." Was this what Riddle was talking about? The McIntyre line looked like it went back a long ways, but it wasn't always magical, and it was still around. Meanwhile, Slytherin's line by the sound of it seemed to be gone except for Lord Voldemort himself.

"This was my cousin Jess' old room," Mr McIntyre said warmly. "She was often sickly as a child, and my father had this bed made for her especially." He ran a hand over the engraving of Cynwrig. "He wanted to make sure our fore-father and his king were always watching over her."

Mrs McIntyre's smile widened. "Now they'll both watch over you while you're here."

Harriet flushed and looked back at the engraving. _Well okay, that makes perfect sense now_, she thought.

Mrs McIntyre strode to a tall, intricately carved wardrobe. "Now, I know you don't… well… we have some of Jess' old clothes in here as well, if you would like," she said awkwardly.

"Well, I… I don't wanna impose," Harriet stammered.

Mr McIntyre smiled. "Nonsense, Jess knew you were coming to stay here. She was the one who suggested you use her old room and said whatever you want is yours. You're a _little_ taller than Jess was, but I'm sure Dobby would not hesitate to alter anything to fit you as quickly as he can."

Harriet blushed. "Thank you very much, really, I… I never expected—"

Mrs McIntyre crossed over and put her hands on Harriet's shoulder, looking at her very seriously. "Harriet dear, it is perfectly fine. Like we said, your comfort and safety are our only concern."

Harriet felt her cheeks get even hotter but she finally smiled and nodded. "Okay, thank you still."

"Good," Mr McIntyre said chuckling. "Try on whatever you'd like, and the bathroom is through that door there. You may bathe to your heart's content and try on anything you'd like and if it doesn't fit, just call out Dobby's name."

"And to get to Scott's room, take a left out the door and it is three doors down on the right, dear," Mrs McIntyre said. "Feel free to wake him when you're ready."

Harriet giggled and nodded.

An hour later, Harriet was knocking on Scott's door. She had washed up as quickly as she could, but the water was so warm and the tub so comfortable Harriet had been unable to help relaxing. It felt as though the water was sucking all of the bad and scary things from her mind for her. She was safe, she was staying with friends, and she could go into Hogsmeade. That was all that mattered.

After her bath, Harriet had spent almost as much time going through the old clothes. She picked out what she wanted (or at least what she felt comfortable with) and called for Dobby. The elf appeared before she even finished his name.

He had done a marvellous job, the clothes fit and looked just like brand new, even if old fashioned. She wore a white t-shirt underneath bib-overall shorts, white, blue-stripped tube socks and denim trainers.

Harriet knocked again, louder this time. There was a disgruntled moan from behind the door. "Muuuuummmmm… it's only ten!"

"Yeah and there's _lots_ to do!" Harriet called.

There was a pause and the sound of scrambling. "Ow," she heard Scott grunt following a loud thump.

"You okay?" Harriet asked.

"Kicked the bedpost," Scott grumbled. The shuffling resumed and finally Scott opened the door.

He was beaming and Harriet leapt up hugging him tight around the neck. "Ack!" Scott grunted but laughed and hugged her back.

"You made it, eh?" He asked grinning as Harriet let go.

"Yep, Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins brought me real early this morning," Harriet replied.

Scott looked jealous. "What? Why didn't Mum and Dad wake me?"

"They might have tried but you don't seem to wake up easily," she teased.

Scott rolled his eyes, "Yeah-yeah," he muttered but smiled.

"Thank you so much for the new cage for Hedwig, by the way! I haven't had time to put it together though."

"You're welcome! And that's alright, we can put it together tonight—OH! We have to go get Kieran!"

"Definitely!" Harriet laughed.

They were off. Scott pointed out all the things that Harriet had missed on her way in while it had still been dark. There was a lovely gazebo where they often ate their meals in the summer, the old blackthorn tree Jess had used to make her first wand, the line where the magical protection surrounding Glen Raglan ended.

Harriet felt a shiver as she crossed the line. It somehow felt as though a weight had been added to her shoulders, and some of her worries crept back in. Was she still safe? Was she allowed to cross this line? If she was supposed to be staying at Glen Raglan for her protection shouldn't she still be inside?

However, Scott merely smiled down at her and they kept walking. It was just then that Harriet noticed how much taller than her he had gotten. He had always had at least an inch on her, but now he had to be three inches taller than her, and Harriet herself had grown.

They reached the end of the lane where the Knight Bus had dropped Harriet off. She looked around but she did not see a house just across the road.

"I thought Mrs O'Brien said—"

Scott laughed, cutting her off. "Well, they live _relatively_ right across the road," Scott said. "Glen Raglan is, well… pretty big…" he admitted, his cheeks going pink. He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly.

Harriet bit her lip. She knew Scott didn't like talking about his family's status or money. And now Harriet could see why. Harriet had felt embarrassed over her own inheritance last summer after seeing how little money the Weasleys had in their vault. She could only imagine how Scott felt.

"This is where Kieran and I meet up," Scott said, changing the subject.

"Really?" Harriet asked, marking the spot in her memory. "He does live a bit further away than it seemed, doesn't he?"

"Well… we're just about there, really," Scott admitted. "We try and meet up 'half-way.' I never really want him to think I'm treating him like he's a… you know… but I have always made sure I'm the one who walks the further distance."

"Yeah," Harriet nodded, knowing exactly what Scott was having trouble saying. She remembered how she had felt seeing Tori, one of the American refugees, trying to help Kieran through the portrait hole at the start of the previous school year. Sure, Kieran had his leg, but he could still walk and get around.

After another five minutes they came across a modest two-story house. It had beige wooden siding instead of stone and a grey and brown shingled roof. On the left side of the front door was a set of simple sliding windows while the right had a large bay window. There was a tall brick chimney on the right side of the house and two gabled windows on the second floor with a skylight in between. A row of neatly trimmed bushes lined the front of the house.

The pair walked up to the front door and Scott didn't even knock, just opened it and called out: "Hello! Company!"

"Hello, hello!" Harriet heard Mrs O'Brien call and Scott stepped inside.

Harriet followed and they entered into a short hallway. The walls were a soothing crème colour, with a dark hardwood floor and long area rugs. To the right was an open doorway to the sitting room while to the left was clearly a bedroom. There were two more doors off the hallway and one down at the very end. By the sight of the hanging pots and pans and the cabinets Harriet was sure that was the kitchen.

Mrs O'Brien stepped through the door to the kitchen. Somehow, Harriet had expected her to be wearing an apron, cooking something as Mrs Weasley so often was. She was greatly surprised to see Mrs O'Brien wearing a tennis outfit with a towel draped over her shoulders. She had clearly worked up a sweat.

"Hello you two," Mrs O'Brien said walking towards them. "I'd give you both hugs but—" she laughed and wiped her forehead with the towel.

"Understood, Mrs O'Brien," Scott said smiling. "Kieran up yet?"

"Nah, still sleeping as best I know," Mrs O'Brien said.

There was the sound of a slamming screen door and Mr O'Brien stepped into the kitchen doorway, also dressed for tennis and carrying two rackets.

"Oh there yeh two are," he said smiling. "The lug's still asleep most like', so you wanna be sure to knock extra hard."

Scott laughed. "Don't gotta tell me! Come on!" he said and Harriet followed him into the kitchen.

The kitchen was more modern than the Weasleys'. There was a refrigerator and a modern gas-range with nice white counters and wooden cabinets. There were three more doors, one that looked like it led to a basement, another that led upstairs, and finally a door that led out into the back garden.

Scott led her up the stairs where they came to a little landing with two more doors. Scott grinned at her and made a "shhhh" gesture and knocked loudly.

"Scoooooooooooott it's only ten-thirty!" Harriet heard Kieran protest through the door. Harriet giggled quietly.

"Aye, got a surprise for ya," Scott called back. He winked at Harriet who nodded.

"What is it?" Kieran muttered. Scott grinned and didn't reply. Harriet heard more rustling and the creaking of a bed. The door opened and Harriet gasped as Kieran was revealed. His hair was a complete mess, but that wasn't what caught Harriet off guard. What caught Harriet off guard was the fact Kieran was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.

"OY!" Kieran shouted slamming the door shut. "Honestly! You could have given me a _little_ more warning than that!"

For the first time in her life, Harriet actually fell over from laughing.

* * *

"Fishing?"

"Aye, fishing."

"You want _me_ to go fishing?"

"You wanted to know what we do for fun." Kieran had finally got dressed and they were headed back to Scott's.

"Heh, well I coulda offered ta play tennis," Kieran said laughing.

"Aye, Kieran does have a killer serve."

"Followed by killer pain in ma knee, yeah," Kieran muttered.

Scott rolled his eyes. Harriet bit her lip thinking. She wasn't anxious to make Kieran uncomfortable talking about his leg, even if he didn't seem bothered by it. It was often a part of Kieran and Scott's banter.

"So… what's so exciting about fishing?"

"Quidditch players," Kieran mumbled and Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Well, nothing, that's kinda the point," Scott laughed. "It's to help you relax. It's peaceful."

"Well, I suppose I can deal with peaceful…"

"Well I mean it's not got much on killing basilisk with a sword," Kieran teased.

Harriet punched his shoulder.

They got back to McIntyre Manor and Scott stopped inside the front door, opening a closet and pulling out three long fishing poles.

"Hello, you three. Fishing?" Scott's mother asked as she passed through the entrance hall.

"Aye," Scott said handing Harriet a pole.

"Well, be careful, the river has a real strong current," she said.

"We know, mum," Scott said in an ever-suffering tone. Mrs McIntyre shot him a dirty look and he blushed sheepishly. "Sorry Mum… we'll be careful."

"Good," she said putting a smile back on. She strode off but Scott kept his abashed demeanour as they grabbed some wellingtons, a picnic basket of sandwiches, and a blanket that Dobby brought them and headed back outside.

They found a spot in the shade a little ways down the river, out of sight of the manor. They rolled out the blanket and sat down on it. Kieran broke out the can of worms.

"Okay, what else is there?" Harriet asked after twenty minutes. Kieran and Scott almost dropped their rods laughing.

Harriet pouted and cast her line again. The current was rapid as Mrs McIntyre had said. They all had to keep casting and recasting as the current carried their lines downstream. However, after another fifteen minutes or so, Harriet was finally starting to get in the groove of fishing. It was very peaceful, the three of them just sitting and chatting about life.

Harriet filled them in on her summer with the Dursleys. She got right up to the night Aunt Marge attacked her when she finally paused. She didn't know how to talk about that subject just yet.

"Then what happened?" Kieran asked, giving his line an excited twitch before looking disappointed and reeling in his line to recast.

"I… well… I woke up my aunt and she just… went crazy," Harriet said, trying to sound casual.

She didn't know why she wasn't telling them about what she had been doing when Aunt Marge came in. It had been childish to still play games like that, but that wasn't the reason. Aunt Marge's words still ate at her, the look of horror and disgust on her face. But why, why did that hurt her so badly? Aunt Marge had called her all sorts of mean, horrible things before. Why did that make her feel so shameful?

Fortunately, Harriet was distracted from her thoughts when there was finally a tug on her line.

"Set the hook! Set the hook!" Scott said excitedly.

"How!?" Harriet said starting to panic.

"Just give the rod a twitch back!" Kieran exclaimed.

Harriet did as told. The fish felt huge as it tugged on the line, though Harriet wasn't sure. She had never fished before.

"Okay you got it!" Kieran said. "Reel it in, but not too hard, don't wanna snap the line."

"Like this?" Harriet asked, fumbling a little.

"Pull back on the rod and then reel the line in as you let it down, then repeat," Scott explained.

"Here, I'll help," Kieran said and moved behind Harriet. He took hold of the rod above and below her hands and pulled back and let the rod down. "Now reel."

Harriet nodded and turned the reel handle as Kieran let the rod down. He pulled back again and Harriet reeled in quickly once more when he let the rod back down.

"Got it?" He asked. Harriet swallowed and nodded. For some reason, she really did not want him to let go of the rod, but he did.

Harriet kept doing as Kieran had shown her, and finally the fish came to the surface.

"Nice perch!" Scott said looking impressed. "Couple pounds at least!"

Harriet beamed as Kieran took hold of the fish and took the hook out. He smiled and handed it to Harriet. It felt slippery but not as slimy as she had thought it was going to feel. It wasn't a very large fish, but Harriet was impressed by how strong it felt in her hands as it wriggled.

"We shoulda brought the—oh wait, keep forgetting! Dobby!" Scott called. The house-elf appeared next to them with a pop that surprised Harriet so much she almost dropped the fish.

"Yes, Master Scott—oh! Congratulations Harriet Potter! It is a most fine fish!"

"Th-thanks, Dobby," Harriet blushed.

Scott smiled. "Quick! Get the camera for us so we can get a picture and put the fish back in the river!"

"At once Master Scott!" Dobby said and disappeared with a loud crack, reappearing a second later holding a large, old-fashioned camera, much like the one Colin Creevey had at the start of his first year. Kieran and Scott both put their arms around her shoulders and they all smiled as Dobby snapped the picture.

* * *

The rest of the first week passed as a blur. Everywhere she went and looked there was something new and exciting to discover. They explored much of the manor, finding some places even Scott didn't know about, such as the wine cellar. However, Dobby caught them there and shooed them out.

"This is not a suitable place for you young masters and miss!"

The most fun was exploring the attic. There was just so much to discover. In her mind Harriet could never help but feel she was looking for clues. She wanted to suggest her Nancy Drew game to Kieran and Scott, but again the lingering words of Aunt Marge kept barging into her mind.

_Freak_!

As both boys often had chores and housework to do, even Scott (Dobby having days off and not being able to do everything at once), Harriet often found herself hanging out with just Kieran or Scott individually. Each had their own passions and interests that she had never really known about at Hogwarts.

Despite his usual bookish nature at school, Scott spent most of his time exploring the woods at Glen Raglan. Harriet had often wondered, since last spring, just how Scott had managed to follow the basilisk without being heard the night Riddle had sent the giant snake to kill him (another bit of information she had never told Scott). It did not take Harriet long to figure out why.

After so many years growing up exploring the woods, Scott had become quite a master at stalking through them. He knew the right kind of shoes to wear, where best to set his feet, and how fast to move. It was impressive at first to watch, however it soon became obvious that Scott's preferred target with Harriet around was not squirrels or the deer that lived in the woods.

No. His new favourite target was Harriet. Time and again Harriet would be trying to sneak along after Scott when suddenly he would disappear and reappear behind her, grabbing her from behind and causing her to shriek. However, Scott would usually flee before Harriet's wrath as she attempted to pummel his shoulder in retaliation. Harriet was surprised to find she was getting rather good at hitting people in the shoulder, not that she was sure that really counted as a talent.

"So, why do you like being out in the woods so much at home, yet spend all your time studying at Hogwarts?" Harriet asked one sunny afternoon.

Scott flushed a little and shrugged. "It's what I'm supposed to do, I guess… Heh, maybe it's just wood?" he said looking around at the trees. "I can't go into the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, so I run into a forest of another kind?"

Harriet thought it made sense, but she still felt like there was something Scott wasn't telling her.

Her time alone with Kieran was much more subdued, but Harriet didn't mind. It was very peaceful, usually involving long walks down the paths of Glen Raglan or just sitting and talking in his room. She was learning more about his family than she had ever known before. His father was the son of a pair of star tennis players. Kieran's mom had not grown up around tennis, but had picked it up shortly after meeting Kieran's father. Harriet was even more surprised to find out both of Kieran's parents had been Quidditch players as well.

Surprisingly, Harriet found her time with Kieran slightly more awkward than with Scott. It wasn't that she had more fun with Scott; it was more that she felt bad Kieran just couldn't do all the things his friend liked to do. She felt Kieran deserved to be able to do anything he wanted, not have to settle on things because of his leg.

For instance, Kieran did confide to her that he had always wanted to play tennis like his parents, but he just couldn't move well enough on his leg. So instead he learned how to have fun other ways: reading, taking leisurely walks, and of course, fishing.

"So… do you get… I don't know… jealous, sometimes?" Harriet asked nervously the first afternoon of her second week.

"About what?" Kieran asked. Harriet rolled her eyes in her mind. She knew Kieran was playing stupid again.

"Well, I mean… like when I talk about Quidditch… or when your folks are playing tennis…" Harriet said carefully, "You always make jokes about your leg…"

"It… it's fine, Harriet. It's sort of a reality I have to live with, you know? Yeah, sure I wish I could fly broomsticks or run or just… you know, walk?"

Harriet flushed looking down at her hands in her lap. "Sorry…"

"Harriet, I said it's fine," he said bumping her shoulder.

"I know… I just… you're my friend, but I feel like I know the least about you of everyone! I never know what's okay to say or not okay to say, I never wanna offend you or make you feel like I'm being insensitive about your, yeah, and just—"

Kieran simply sighed and put an arm around her shoulder. "Harriet, honest, you're fine. You're an awesome Quidditch player; I want you to be proud of it. I want my folks to be proud of themselves."

Harriet swallowed and sighed resting her head on Kieran's shoulder. "You're too nice for your own good, you know?"

Kieran laughed.

Somehow, despite the fanciness of the manor, and all the nice things the McIntyres had given her, Harriet found she was starting to prefer the O'Brien house to the McIntyres'. It was quieter, and cosier, and said "family" to her much more than McIntyre Manor did. The O'Briens themselves were also much quicker to laughter than the McIntyres, particularly Mrs O'Brien.

What Harriet thought she liked the most about Mrs O'Brien was that Mrs O'Brien talked to Harriet like she was a grown up. They talked a lot about Quidditch and what life was like for her and Mr O'Brien growing up.

"Aye, I was a beater, as was Kieran's father," Mrs O'Brien said. "He was the one who got me on tennis. His parents played it, and Sean picked it up from them. It's really good for hand-eye coordination. We made a darn good team, we did."

Harriet smiled. "So, what made you want to play?" Harriet asked, interested.

"Well…" Mrs O'Brien said and gave a little smile in Mr O'Brien's direction, "Let's just say I was a sucker for a pair of baby blues… If making them mine meant running about a court, working up a sweat and hitting something with a racket that was worth it in my book. Anyway, we graduated and got jobs and got married and time for Quidditch fell away, but there was always time for tennis."

Harriet giggled and nodded. "I like the sound of that… just… grow up, get married, get a job…"

"Ooooo got yer eyes set on any boys yet?" Mrs O'Brien teased.

Harriet rolled her eyes. "Kinda… but none of them really know I exist… well I mean, they know I exist… everyone knows I exist."

Mrs O'Brien's eyes twinkled. "Oh I wouldn't say that, love. I'm sure there's a least one boy out there who thinks you're the most wonderful thing to ever exist and it has nothing at all to do with a scar or You-Know-Who or fame."

"Really?" Harriet asked, unconvinced.

"Really," Mrs O'Brien said enigmatically.

Harriet changed the subject. "So… Mr O'Brien said you went to school with my mum and dad, right?"

Mrs O'Brien's smile faltered briefly. "Aye, we did."

"What were they like?" Harriet asked.

Mrs O'Brien continued to smile, but there was still something strained behind it.

"They were wonderful people, honey—well…" she paused and the mischievousness returned to her smile. "Yer da was a bit of a dork… he was seeker too, you know?"

"I do, how do you mean a dork?"

"Ohhh you know, he just let it all go to his head a little bit. He'd ruffle his hair all the time to look like he'd just got done flying, he'd walk around letting go and catching snitches he swiped from Madame Hooch…"

"Madame Hooch was around way back then?"

"Oh, aye," Mrs O'Brien replied.

"Wow… heh… but you're right… my dad was kind of a dork wasn't he?"

"Oh yes," Mrs O'Brien laughed. "But he was a good dork, who loved you and your mother more than life itself."

"So what was my mum like?"

Mrs O'Brien smiled brighter. "Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but I think you pretty much just have to look in a mirror to know what she was like."

"Really?" Harriet asked, surprised.

"Really. It's almost uncanny in fact, well you got the glasses and the black hair, but it's in your personality. You take a bit more physically from your da I think, but you definitely get one hundred percent of your personality from yer mum."

Harriet beamed.

* * *

As the second week drew to a close, Harriet was starting to get mixed feelings. They had yet again planned going to Hogsmeade together with all of their friends. However, as with the Burrow, Harriet wasn't all that sure she was ready for the summer to come to an end. She wanted to go back and see all her friends and play Quidditch, but she also was having too much fun.

However, something interesting happened halfway through the second week at the manor. Harriet got to meet Jess McIntyre again. Not only that, she got to meet the newest student at Hogwarts.

Harriet and the McIntyres were having tea while they waited on the patio the afternoon that Jess was supposed to arrive. Harriet was doubly excited. She had only met Jess once before, when she had brought Ronnie her new wand last year. Ronnie had needed a new wand after her old wand had been snapped when her father inadvertently parked his car next to the Womping Willow, a vicious tree on the Hogwarts grounds that smashed anything and anyone who got near it.

Harriet supposed part of the reason she wanted to meet Jess so badly was she she'd spent two weeks literally walking in her shoes. At the moment Harriet was wearing one of Jess' old white floral sundresses and some sandals. She knew Jess had said Harriet could have any of her old clothes she wanted, but Harriet still felt awkward about it.

And yet, Harriet loved it. There were so many cute dresses and clothes she'd never had the chance to wear at the Dursleys. _The only nice thing I ever got from them was the dress I wore __to meet the Masons_, Harriet thought. _I'm so glad Mrs Weasley was able to get the pudding stains out_. She now kept the dress tucked away in her trunk for special occasions.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car and Harriet furrowed her brow in surprise. The last thing she had expected was Jess to arrive by car. But she was right, a few seconds later a shining car came driving down the lane and stopped in front of them. The door opened and Jess McIntyre stepped out.

She was as tall as Mr McIntyre, but with a curtain of dark brown hair and blue eyes set in a round, smiling face. She hurried over to hug Mr and Mrs McIntyre and Scott before smiling down at Harriet and holding out a hand.

"Dear God girl ya wear that dress a thousand and a half times better than I ever did," she declared shaking Harriet's hand with a very firm grip.

"Th-thank you Miss," Harriet said blushing.

"Oh Jesus girl, call me Jess, ever'one does! So, the customer here yet?"

"Nah, be a little while yet. Have a seat!" Mr McIntyre said.

They retook their seats and Mr and Mrs McIntyre chatted away with Jess while Scott and Harriet sat quietly drinking their tea. Finally Jess turned back to Harriet.

"So Miss Potter, how's your friend Ronnie and her wand?"

"Oh, great I think," Harriet said caught off guard. "She loves it and it works really well for her. Only took her a couple days to forget about her old wand altogether I think."

Jess smiled and nodded. "The mark of a proper wand pairing. Her old Ollivander wand was a good one but it wasn't truly _her _wand. It had enough life left in it for me to glean a little of its old life. Poor dear could have been so much happier had she got her own wand from the start. Wands don't turn over allegiances so readily."

"So, what got you into wand-making?" Harriet asked.

Jess laughed. "It's interesting."

Mr McIntyre snorted into his teacup. "Oh come on, Jess."

Jess rolled her eyes. "Oh alright, tis a bit more than that. Just a bit of a family tradition. It's how we the McIntyres made our money after magic appeared in the family line."

"Well the whole royal gifts thing helped," Mr McIntyre chuckled.

"Okay, yeah it maybe gave some of the original investment money to start the business, yes," Jess retorted.

"So, is that why you make wands for free?" Harriet asked.

Jess nodded. "Aye, just don't need to take money for them anymore. The family fortune is prudently invested, just lets me do what I want, really. Travel about, find good wand trees and core materials, pretty good life really."

Harriet gave a laugh. "Must be nice."

Jess smiled and patted Harriet's shoulder. "All lives are different, love. Just gotta make the best of what it gives ya. Sitting around being unhappy with yer lot usually just leaves you feeling more miserable, and makes it harder to get through each day. Hope, always have it. Misery breeds misery, no point fretting."

Harriet nodded, digesting that information. Just then there was the sound of feet on the gravel drive. Even stranger, Harriet was sure she could hear a horse. Everyone turned to look and as they did, Harriet could not help but notice Mr and Mrs McIntyres' and Jess' hands all go towards their pockets. They kept hearing the footsteps and the hoof-clops getting louder when finally:

"Hello?" called a pleasant woman's voice.

"Over here, Miss Burbage," Mr McIntyre called and rose to his feet.

Around the corner came a middle-aged woman and a boy who looked to be around Harriet's age. They were in fact accompanied by a chocolate brown horse with a black nose. The boy was fairly tall, about the same height as Kieran and Scott, but slighter in build. He had dirty-blonde hair and a very noticeable tan. He looked like he was squinting, but Harriet could just detect blue-green irises through the squint.

Harriet got up with the rest of the family too. They walked over to greet the newcomers. The boy looked back at the horse and to Harriet's surprise, it gently nudged his shoulder with its nose and the boy took a step or two forward.

"Well, you must be Mister Lee," Mr McIntyre said holding out a hand.

The boy shook and then turned to shake with Mrs McIntyre, Jess, Scott and finally Harriet. As he looked at Harriet his eyes widened a little. Harriet flushed. His eyes had not gone up to her scar, which was covered by her hair anyway. They had gone down and up again, taking in the rest of her instead. However, after that he averted his eyes, just looking down at his feet.

"Jackson, this is my wife, Paige; my cousin, Jess; our son, Scott; and his friend, Harriet Potter," Mr McIntyre said introducing everyone.

On hearing her name, Jackson looked back up at Harriet again, his eyes wide open now. However, it wasn't this that caught Harriet's attention. It was the way the horse had snorted and turned its own head to look at her, its own eyes going wide. Or at least she thought they did. It was difficult to tell, and that certainly wasn't very horse-like behaviour, but no one else seemed to notice.

Mr McIntyre didn't seem to notice as he said, "Everyone, this is Jackson Lee, another refugee student from America."

"Hi," he said. He still looked shy, and wasn't really meeting anyone's eyes, especially not Harriet's.

"And this is Miss Charity Burbage, former Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts—"

"Oh come on, Dorian, like I really counted. I was only there for a year," Miss Burbage said waving a dismissive hand.

"And who is this gorgeous beauty?" Jess said as she took a step towards the horse.

"E-Epeius," Jackson managed to mumble.

"Gorgeous… simply gorgeous…" Jess said rubbing her hand up and down the horse's long snout. It gave a little snort and clopped a foot, its eyes closing in apparent appreciation of the petting.

Mr McIntyre chuckled. "Well, let's all have a seat, shall we?"

They all sat back down and Harriet couldn't help but notice that Jackson took the seat as far from her as possible. Scott seemed to be studying Jackson intently. Harriet wasn't sure what the look on his face was. Was it uncertainty, or suspicion? Somehow, from deep inside her head, the word that came to the front of her mind when she looked at his face said: jealousy.

"Well anyway, as I said, Miss Burbage used to be the Muggle Studies professor. Now she's head of the new Department for Misplaced Youths, a new office created under Fudge's orders just this summer."

"Just this year?" Scott asked. "So you're not the people who brought the refugees over?"

"No, dear," Miss Burbage said. "Our role is the protection of the students who are already here. We no longer call them refugees," Miss Burbage reminded Scott.

"Right, sorry," Scott said. "So… why did you leave for the new job?"

"Well, the Minister himself asked me to step in. Many of the students have Muggle families and so I am able to liaise with them effectively. And don't worry, dear, no apology necessary. The last year was a… well… fiasco. Anyway, there was an incident over this past summer that made keeping a closer watch on the children a necessity."

"Sirius Black you mean?" Harriet asked.

"No dear, a much different matter," Miss Burbage said gravely.

"Well, enough of this dark stuff, eh?" Jess said boisterously and patted Jackson hard on the shoulder. "Let's get this boyo measured up so I can get him just the right wand before classes start, yeah?"

"Why don't you and Harriet head down to the O'Brien's?" Mrs McIntyre said. She sounded as though she was trying to be casual, though she seemed very serious.

Scott nodded and got to his feet. Harriet rose too though she was hesitant. There was more going on here than they were telling her. She kept stealing glances back over her shoulder at the three adults sitting around the table while Jess led Jackson into McIntyre Manor. Finally after they got out of sight, Harriet stopped.

"No, I've gotta know."

"Know what?" Scott asked.

Harriet didn't answer, she darted into the woods, slipping off her sandals and sneaking along as quietly as she could. She wasn't as good as Scott yet, but she was lighter than him and walked even more lightly as she snuck through the woods, back towards the gazebo. Finally she heard voices.

"So it's true then? Separatist forces really are trying to get a hold of saved children?" she heard Mrs McIntyre ask worriedly.

"Yes, the most persistent one is named Kinney. He first came pretending to be an envoy looking to reclaim children for their other family in the states. Fortunately, Professor Howe from Rathlin was on to him and warned the Minister of the plan. Fudge interceded and had Kinney sent off."

"Well that's good," Mr McIntyre said.

"If only it had worked," Miss Burbage said gravely. "He gave the Auror who was escorting him out of the country the slip. No one's seen any sign of him since."

Harriet bit her lip. She looked and saw Scott crouching behind her. He glared at her; clearly not happy she was eavesdropping on his parents, but he didn't do anything more, just listened in.

"Really? Do you think he's dangerous?" Mrs McIntyre asked. "If he presents a danger to the school, combined with Black on the loose?"

"Unfortunately, he is. Kinney is not an envoy of any kind. He's essentially a mercenary. He's dangerous and ruthless," Miss Burbage said. "He named Arnold Hoffman's daughter and the Tyler sisters on his list of those he's after. He's after young Jackson Lee, too."

"Why him?" Mr McIntyre asked curiously. "The Tylers and Miss Hoffman I could see but I believe Jackson's family are dead are they not?"

"They are," Miss Burbage said. "But Jackson was the only survivor of the attack on that town last June. He knows the real story of what happened. He doesn't seem to remember the attack, at least not consciously, but he talks in his sleep. Miss Momori says it's more than just repression."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean someone put a memory charm on him. Someone wanted to make him forget everything that he had seen that day."

"A Unionist soldier?" Mrs McIntyre asked. Her voice sounded muffled, and Harriet was sure she had her hands over her mouth.

"Must have been. We're not sure why, Dumbledore says it must have been done out of guilt. Anyway, Jackson's probably in the most danger out of all of the children who've been relocated. Some Unionist leaders want him because if he can prove that the Secessionists in the town against the will of the denizens it can fix the horrible damage to their international image. Other Unionist leaders want him because apparently he killed a Unionist officer who was leading the attack on his town."

"He killed—?" Mrs McIntyre started to ask but she paused when Miss Burbage cut her off.

"We can't know that for sure. The boy is suffering from severe emotional trauma coupled with a powerful memory charm. Miss Momori says we can't start working on the memory charm until we deal with the emotional damage. Personally I argued against his even going to Hogwarts this year, for his own safety and others."

"So why do Secessionist forces want him then?" Mr McIntyre asked.

"They want to silence him. He alone truly knows that the Secessionist forces in that town were themselves invaders. That is his story anyway. The Secessionists are exploiting every ounce of the last attack they can get, and if Jackson is able to bring it to light that they were not the true victims of the attack and that they were using the Muggle civilians in the town as human shields then it will ruin their whole case and cause even more negative public support for their side."

"I see…" Mr McIntyre said.

"I just… I can't see how a young boy could have killed someone… especially an army officer. How would he have even known how to perform the necessary curses?"

Harriet heard Miss Burbage sigh. "He didn't use a curse, Mrs McIntyre. The rumour is he used a gun."

"A gun…?" Mr McIntyre asked.

"Yes, an old revolver. That was how the death was reported in Unionist Army reports, and it was corroborated by Canadian authorities who say the boy was found with a gun matching the description that had been fired several times."

"Oh… oh that poor boy… that poor, poor boy…" Mrs McIntyre said.

"Yes… he was found with the horse in Canada, some three hundred miles away from where the attack took place. No one's quite sure how he and the horse got that far that fast, the boy's wand was broken and he's much too young to have apparated. Anyway, he almost refuses to leave the horse's side now. Dumbledore had to go all the way over to America himself to talk Jackson into coming, promising there would be space at the school for the horse and that he would be well cared for."

Harriet looked at Scott. His eyes were as wide as hers. This year was starting to look more and more daunting. Sirius Black was after her and some other unnamed former spy at Hogwarts. Some man named Kinney was going after some of her new American friends. And to top it off, another new student had turned up who had possibly killed someone.

Harriet and Scott turned away and finally snuck back out of the woods towards the O'Brien house. However, as they got back out onto the lane Harriet paused again. The horse, Epeius, was standing there, looking at her. Its ears were laid back and its eyes narrowed. Was the horse looking at her as though it disapproved?

Harriet shook her head. The horse continued to stare or glare or whatever it was doing as Harriet and Scott backed away. They turned, and headed towards the road. _Why can't anything in my life ever be normal or simple for once_?!


	5. Walking with Unicorns

Chapter 5

Walking with Unicorns

"Never pass on the chance to look at the world through a new set of eyes."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

"So, do you think he really did kill someone?"

Harriet and Scott were sitting in Kieran's room telling him everything they had overheard.

"I don't know. I can't see him actually being dangerous; I mean would Dumbledore actually let someone who was dangerous come to Hogwarts?" Kieran said, scratching his chin.

"Well, he _did_ hire Snape," Scott joked causing Kieran to double over with laughter.

Harriet laughed as well, but not quite as hard as Kieran and Scott. She did not have the same feelings of animosity towards Professor Snape, the Hogwarts Potions Master, as other students. She wasn't exactly cordial with Professor Snape. In fact most of the time in Potions class Professor Snape pretended that Harriet did not exist. However, Harriet would never forget how Professor Snape had gone with her to help save Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets.

"Well, I mean really, if you think about it, what if he—you know—he did do it? By the sound of it he was probably protecting himself. Maybe he didn't mean to, or it was an accident? We really don't know anything about him or what happened. I mean Miss Burbage didn't even know," Harriet said changing the subject back to Jackson.

"That's true…" Scott muttered.

"Wonder what house he'll be in," Kieran said.

"Gryffindor," Scott replied without hesitation.

"How do you know?" Harriet asked.

Scott shrugged. "He just looked like a Gryffindor. He had that silly, 'it's just me against the world' look to him."

"Oy!" Harriet and Kieran both protested. Kieran threw a pillow at Scott who deflected it with his hands.

"Well if you ask me," Harriet retorted, "he had that squinty-eyed 'I read way too much' Ravenclaw look to him."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, but when he's sorted into Gryffindor, don't say I didn't tell you so!"

There was only a week and a half left of summer and Harriet vowed to spend it doing as many fun things as she could. She found it amusing that only two years ago she was sure there was nowhere in the world she would ever feel at home. Now between the Weasleys', the McIntyres', the O'Briens', and Hogwarts, Harriet felt she had four homes. Four places filled with people who cared and would do anything for her.

The remainder of her time at the McIntyres' was made even more fun because Jess decided to stay. Harriet listened intently to all her stories growing up. Once more, Harriet saw the connections woven through her friendships: the death of family members at the hand of Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

Jess revealed that she had lost her own parents at Lord Voldemort's command when she was only eleven. Her father had been a professional wand-maker, and essentially Ollivander's only competition in Great Britain. The Death Eaters had shown up at their house, demanding that her father work for them, supplying their army with wands. Jess' father had refused, and they killed him and Jess' mother because of it.

Mr McIntyre's father had been Jess' godfather. After her parents' deaths Jess had gone to live at McIntyre Manor where she became Mr McIntyre's adopted older sister. They had sent her to Hogwarts and encouraged her to learn all she could about wand-lore to carry on her family's legacy.

"Wish I'd had a cool godfather to go live with like that," Harriet had grumbled.

Jess' lips tightened and she put a hand on Harriet's shoulder. "I know, love, you deserved so much better. And still do, but ask yerself, do yeh like who yeh are right now?"

"Yeah," Harriet said without thinking.

"Well then, what's the real fuss? Everything that has happened to you has made you who you are, for good or for ill, yeah? Sometimes those things aren't so great, but they are all part of the equation of who you are," Jess explained.

Harriet blushed, but smiled. Jess had much the same nature as Mrs O'Brien, treating Harriet like an equal. Not that Mr or Mrs McIntyre ever spoke down to Harriet or made her feel stupid. They just seemed much more prim and proper and were constantly fussing and worried.

The families had arranged to go to Diagon Alley for the students' books and equipment on the 31st of August, the day before the train left for Hogwarts. The families had all booked rooms in the Leaky Cauldron, the little pub that hid Diagon Alley from the Muggle World. It was bewitched so that Muggles could not see it, but magical people could. Harriet remembered entering Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid on her eleventh birthday. It was the first time she had been aware of just how well known she was in the magical world.

Harriet was even more excited because Jess had offered to drive Kieran, Scott, and Harriet to Diagon Alley herself the day before. She wanted to make it a fun day trip, and to show Harriet the McIntyre's unicorn herd.

The only time Harriet had ever seen a unicorn was during the detention she received after helping relocate Hagrid's pet dragon, Norbert. She, Neville, and Draco Malfoy had been sent into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid and his boar-hound, Fang, searching for an injured unicorn. Harriet had found the unicorn, but it had already been killed by Professor Quirrell who was sharing a body with Lord Voldemort.

Finally the night of the 29th arrived. Harriet and Scott packed and then ended up staying awake until midnight, talking about the trip the following day. Harriet was especially pleased when Mrs McIntyre magically expanded the inside of Harriet's trunk for her. This meant not only could she fit all her new clothes in the trunk, but even her broomstick as well.

Harriet barely slept by the time Jess shook her awake at five in the morning. She washed up trying to drive the grogginess out of her mind. Jess had said they would be walking for a while, so Harriet picked out a light-blue button-up shirt, a pair of khaki walking shorts, white knee socks and a pair of brown walking shoes.

"Ooo that's a right smart look," Jess said as Harriet stepped out of her room. "Got someone you wanna impress?"

"N-no…?" Harriet stammered, caught off guard by the question.

Jess laughed and waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, just givin' ya a hard time."

Scott came out of his room. He blinked at the sight of Harriet. "Going on safari?" He teased.

Harriet blushed but Jess put her hands on her hips. "Hey now, that was right high-fashion when I was 'er age," she said coming to Harriet's defence.

Harriet grinned and Scott rolled his eyes. "Sorry, sorry, just teasing," he said.

Jess levitated their trunks so they followed along behind the group as they headed out for the car. Harriet carried Hedwig's new cage that Scott had assembled for her, and Scott carried two cages with his owl, Adal and his kestrel, Ayr. Jess carried extra pillows for Harriet and Scott to get some more sleep along the way, as it would be at least a three hour trip before they reached the unicorn ranch.

Harriet felt bad that she had not sent for Hedwig. Unfortunately Mr and Mrs McIntyre had decided that it would be too risky sending letters that might give away Harriet's whereabouts. The chance to get Hedwig back was another point that had Harriet finally getting excited to leave Glen Raglan for her friends and Hogwarts.

Even if Jess' car couldn't fly, it seemed she had not been above giving it a few enhancements of her own. As with Mr Weasley's car, the inside had been expanded magically. The boot fit both Harriet and Scott's trunks with ample room to spare. They set the three bird cages easily on the front seat while the back seat was wide enough to fit at least five people.

They all climbed in and were off to Kieran's. Kieran was already up and waiting for them on his front step with his trunk beside him. Harriet and Scott got out help him.

"Hey you lot," Kieran said waving. He smiled taking in Harriet's outfit. "You look smart!"

"Thank you, Kieran," Harriet replied. She felt her cheeks get very warm but she still turned and stuck her tongue out at Scott who rolled his eyes again.

Scott helped Kieran load his trunk into the boot. They climbed back inside the car, Harriet moving into the middle, and were once again heading down the road. They did manage to talk for about a half hour as Jess drove on, but soon Harriet started feeling her eye-lids getting heavy. Scott stopped talking five minutes later and Harriet saw that his head had dropped onto his pillow which was propped up against a window.

Harriet kicked off her shoes and twisted in her seat a little, turning in Kieran's direction. She curled her legs up under her and cuddled her pillow, resting her head on it. Kieran stretched and yawned and lay against his own pillow. Harriet smiled softly, took off her glasses, and closed her eyes.

* * *

Harriet's head slid and she jerked awake. She looked around but the whole world was fuzzy. She was sitting upright, lying against something lumpy and oddly shaped. She fumbled around and found her glasses. She put them on and blushed. She remembered where she was now. She was in the back seat of Jess McIntyre's car, and she had fallen asleep against Kieran.

Fortunately, Kieran looked to be fast asleep. Harriet sat up rapidly and felt her cheeks get hot once more. She looked up in the front and saw Jess looking back at her in the rear-view mirror. Jess' eyebrow was raised and Harriet could see the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile.

"Oh shut up," Harriet mouthed back and Jess laughed. The sound of it woke Kieran and Scott who both grunted looking around as they stretched in unison.

"We almost there?" Scott asked.

"We are there," Jess said smiling. "Just parked."

"Fantastic," Kieran said and took down his pillow and opened the door.

Harriet put her shoes back on and climbed out after him, groaning and stretching as she stood up. She looked around and gasped. They were at the edge of a wide open plain surrounded by forest. In the middle was a white, silver, and gold mass. It was moving around and Harriet realized it must be the herd of unicorns.

Jess put two fingers in her mouth and whistled as loud as she could. The herd began moving as one towards them. The ground began to tremble beneath their feet and the herd got close enough Harriet could finally make out individual animals.

The herd came to a stop about ten yards away. Harriet's mouth was hanging open. The largest animals were pure white with two foot long horns protruding from their foreheads. There were smaller, younger looking members of the herd who were silver. Finally there were the foals which were a shimmering pure-gold. Harriet noted that even the older unicorns seemed to retain their golden hooves.

If a dead unicorn had been the saddest thing Harriet had ever seen, then living unicorns were certainly among the happiest. Harriet didn't know why, but they somehow filled her with joy as they pranced about looking at her giving playful snorts and whinnies.

"There you are my beauties… oh you gorgeous, _gorgeous_ _beauties_," Jess said and slowly strode forward.

At first, Harriet thought she was being cautious but as she took in the sight of Jess' face, Harriet realized it was reverence. The tallest of the unicorns, a brilliantly white stallion, strutted towards Jess, his head held high. At first Harriet thought he looked rather haughty, and then she reminded herself that the two foot spike on top of his head would probably be dangerous if he approached Jess with his head lowered.

One of the golden fouls cantered up excitedly beside the stallion. Jess beamed over her shoulder at the three. She gestured to Harriet.

"Come on, Harriet, don't be shy. Adult unicorns favour lassies," she said.

Harriet nodded and stepped forward. The unicorn slowly turned its long face towards her. Harriet stopped beside Jess and Jess took a step back. Harriet looked up into the shiny, black eyes and reached up, gently rubbing her hand up the horse's muzzle, going with the grain of its fur. Just like Epeius the other day, the unicorn closed its eyes and gave a soft snort of appreciation.

Harriet giggled. She got a similar sensation stroking the beautiful horse's fur as she had when she swallowed a tear from Fawkes the previous spring. It was not nearly as strong, but she did feel a sense of inner-peace and calm. And yet she felt empowered at the same time.

The foal nudged Harriet's other hand and she giggled, scratching it behind the ears. There was movement on either side of her and Harriet saw Kieran and Scott step up as well, petting the unicorn's neck.

"Hey Sampson," Scott said smiling warmly.

"Miss us?" Kieran asked.

The unicorn snorted again and stomped a foot in response.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Kieran said. "Wasn't on purpose."

"I thought you said unicorns prefer girls?" Harriet asked Jess.

Jess laughed. "Well, Kieran and Scott are a bit special. See Sampson here gave the tail hairs that I used in their wands."

"So your wands share a core?" Harriet asked. The only other case of shared cores she had heard was with her own wand and Lord Voldemort's.

"Yeah," Scott said patting Sampson's neck. "Though, I don't know if it's just that. I mean, I guess they're my family's herd, so, I think they sort of tolerate me a bit better for that. And they've _always_ seemed to take a shine to Kieran."

There was no denying that. At that moment a couple of mares walked up and began nuzzling Kieran who laughed and stroked their muzzles too. Harriet beamed watching as the rest of the herd began moving forward. The foals in particular were very friendly and their whinnies almost sounded like laughter as they pranced and cantered about.

It was one of those wonderful moments where Harriet truly appreciated how different and wonderful the magical world in which she lived really was. It was like a fairy-tale come true as Kieran and Scott introduced her to their favourite members of the herd. It was as if every childhood fantasy of hers had come true. She was surrounded by a sea of beautiful, gentle, magical creatures with two of her best friends.

Though the adults were beautiful, the foals were the most fun. Harriet ended up in a sort of game of tag with some of them. The foals would dart past her, trying to see how close and fast they could go by without Harriet touching them. Harriet laughed and smiled back at Kieran and Scott who were both just standing back and watching her. She felt warmth and happiness bubbling through her as she brushed her fringe out of her eyes. She never remembered being so happy in her life.

They spent another couple of hours with the unicorns when finally it was time to get back on the road. Jess filled Harriet in on the magical properties of unicorns. Apart from being used in wand cores, their tail hairs were also useful as bindings on injuries, strong but flexible. However, this discussion put a worrisome thought in Harriet's mind.

"S-so… we've used powdered unicorn horn in Potions before," she said awkwardly.

Jess gave a sad, understanding smile. "Well, don't worry dear, they do not get it from live unicorns."

"Then—"

"Nor do they kill unicorns to get them. That's why it's so expensive an ingredient. They have to wait until the unicorn dies on its own to get the horn," Jess explained, giving Harriet a comforting smile in the rear-view mirror.

"Oh…" Harriet said in a soft voice. Even thinking about a unicorn dying on its own seemed to fill her with sadness.

"Don't fret, love. It's the way of life. Everyone dies eventually, even creatures as wonderful as unicorns. But even in their passing they give us their horns that are used in medicines and curing diseases. So even in death, they are beautiful creatures who do great good," Jess said.

Harriet smiled and nodded, finally reassured.

From unicorns, the conversation drifted to wand-lore and wand-making. In particular, Harriet was curious about the wand Jess had made for Jackson. Harriet found it interesting that Jackson's previous wand-core had also been unicorn tail hair like Kieran and Scott's.

"Red oak was his first wand. Gorgeous it was. Red oak has always made some of the most beautiful o' wands. They tend to favour duellists, those with quick reflexes, and wit."

"I see…" Scott muttered thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Did he get Red oak again?"

"No, pine this time," Jess replied. "Think the attack changed him a bit. Good sign for him."

"Why's that?" Harriet asked.

"Well, legend has it pine-wands are destined for owners with long lives ahead of them. Also means he's adaptable. So even if he seemed a bit, off, when he first arrived, I'm sure by the time classes start he'll be adjusted well and fit in with everyone else."

"Think he'd be a Gryffindor?" Harriet asked.

Scott shot her a look but Jess laughed. "If that boy's not a Gryffindor I'll eat Sampson," she said.

Now Scott stuck his tongue out at Harriet. He yelped as Harriet punched his shoulder.

* * *

Five hours later, they arrived in London. The three in the back had fallen asleep once more. This time Harriet had been careful to position herself so as not to fall asleep on either Kieran or Scott. It only took them another fifteen minutes to reach the Leaky Cauldron itself. Apparently an increased interior was not the only magical modification that Jess had given her car. It also seemed to be able to fit through gaps that Uncle Vernon's fancy company car certainly couldn't have, and had the ability to jump to the front of non-moving queues.

Now that she was finally here, Harriet was beside herself with excitement. She couldn't wait to see Ronnie, Hermione, Marcus and Dora once more. Jess parked the car in front of the Leaky Cauldron and they all got out and removed their trunks from the boot and their owls and kestral from the front seat and stepped inside.

Tom, the landlord, came over to them, smiling toothlessly.

"'Ello 'ello again, Miss Jess! Lovely to see you again! And Miss Potter! Blimey it seems like just yesterday yeh were in here on yer very first trip to Diagon Alley!"

"Nice to see you again, sir," Harriet replied smiling up at him.

Tom beamed and stepped aside, gesturing towards some stairs. "I can show yeh all to yer rooms now, get your trunks put away and get settled in."

"That would be lovely, Tom, thank you," Jess replied and Tom led the four up the stairs.

He stopped in front of one door. "You two lads will be in this room 'ere," Tom said, opening the door for Kieran and Scott.

The two boys entered and then Tom stopped at the next door and opened it too. "You in here Miss Potter, you'll be with Miss Ronnie Weasley when she arrives tomorrow."

Harriet smiled and stepped into the room. It was a very comfortable looking room. The bed was nearly as large as the bed she had slept in at McIntyre Manor, though the furniture here was oak, not cherry. The biggest surprise was what was waiting for her on top of the large wardrobe.

"Hedwig!" Harriet exclaimed as the snowy owl flew down onto Harriet's arm and immediately began preening her hair and nibbling her ear. "Oh I missed you so much too," Harriet said gigging as Hedwig's soft nibbles tickled her ear. She stroked Hedwig's wings and sat down on the bed looking around. She could hear the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley through her window.

She crossed the room to the window and looked down into the street. Tomorrow she would meet the rest of her best friends down there. And yet, in spite of how happy she felt, there was still the nagging doubt. What if Black did turn up in Diagon Alley? He had killed thirteen people with a single curse in the middle of a crowded street. Would he really care that Harriet was surrounded by other witches and wizards in Diagon Alley?

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Harriet said.

The door opened and Kieran poked his head into the room. "Hey, we're going down for dinner now, come on!" he said excitedly.

Harriet smiled, let Hedwig flutter up onto the wardrobe once more, and followed him out the door and back down the stairs to the dining room. No, there was no way Black would know she was there in Diagon Alley. She would be surrounded by witches and wizards who could all perform magic, and was seeing her best friends. She was not going to let her fear ruin her good times. She thought of her parents, and Jess' parents. No, life was much too short to spend worrying about that.


	6. Biting Books and Broomsticks

Chapter 6

Biting Books and Broomsticks

"It is important to remember when someone says "expect the unexpected," they do not mean prepare for all contingencies. They simply mean do not be surprised when things do not go as planned."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

"HARRIET!"

Ronnie Weasley's shriek of delight cut the quiet morning air inside the Leaky Cauldron's dining room. Harriet paused as she came down the stairs and a streak of red hair shot towards her.

"Ronnie!" Harriet laughed as Ronnie hugged her tight, actually lifting her off her feet.

Ronnie set Harriet back down and Harriet smiled turning to hug Ginny who had followed in Ronnie's wake. "Hey Harriet," Ginny said, beaming. "Still doing magic outside school, huh?"

Harriet twisted her mouth in irritation. Ginny was referencing the time last year when Dobby had levitated the pudding Aunt Petunia had made for a dinner party. As a result, Harriet received an official warning from the Ministry about using magic outside of school. She was also locked in her room by Uncle Vernon for almost a week before Ronnie, Fred, George and Ginny had shown up in Mr Weasley's flying car to rescue her.

"I… well… okay it actually _was_ me who did the magic this time but I didn't mean to do it," Harriet said defensively.

"Yeah, we know," Fred said patting her hard on the shoulder.

"Still, gotta give you points for style, blowing her up!" George added, grinning.

"Bet that made a mess," Fred said, smirking.

"I _inflated_ her, not _exploded_ her, and she was attacking me," Harriet muttered. She still wasn't ready to tell anyone why Aunt Marge had been attacking her.

"Just as good," George shrugged.

"Hello Harriet, dear," Mrs Weasley said as she walked up to Harriet as well. Before Harriet could reply, Mrs Weasley pulled her into a rib-cracking hug. "So sorry we weren't here to look after you after that awful woman was so horrible to you!"

"It-it's okay, Mrs Weasley," Harriet muttered. "I really had a great time with Scott and Kieran."

"Harriet was a model guest," Harriet heard Mrs McIntyre say from nearby.

Harriet saw both Mr and Mrs McIntyre sitting with Jess and the O'Briens at a nearby table drinking coffee.

"Where are Kieran and Scott?" Ronnie asked.

"Probably still sleeping," Harriet replied.

"Still?!"

"Yeah, they do that," Harriet said, "a lot."

Ronnie laughed and Fred and George grumbled. "Oh sure, they got to sleep in. We had to get up at the crack of dawn to be here because _Ronnie_ just couldn't wait," Fred groaned.

"Waking up a little early won't hurt you, Fred," said Percy who had just walked up to greet Harriet as well. "_The Early_ _Seeker_ _catches_ _the_ _Snitch,_ and all that."

"Perce… do… do you even know what that means?" George grumbled.

"And says you," Fred retorted. "Weren't you the one staying up all night and sleeping all day writing secret letters to your _girlfriend_ last summer?"

Harriet, Ronnie and Ginny laughed. Percy tilted his head back in a dignified way before he turned to Harriet. "It is nice to see you again, Harriet. I trust you had a good summer?"

"Uhh… yeah I guess, thanks Percy," Harriet replied. She hadn't thought it was possible for Percy to get more pompous.

Mrs Weasley smiled up at him affectionately. "So, did you hear our good news, Harriet?" Mrs Weasley asked. "Second Head Boy in the family!"

"Yeah, Ronnie told me! Congratulations Percy!" Harriet said smiling.

Percy's chest swelled even more, his Head Boy badge glinting as he did. Fred and George mimed retching while Ronnie pretended to strangle herself and Ginny tried her best not to laugh.

"Well anyway, how was life at Scott's? _Love_ your outfit by the way, so retro," Ginny said taking in Harriet's attire. Today she had picked out a white turtle-neck with a navy, pleated pinafore dress, white knee socks with black argyle pattern and black penny loafers.

"Oh, thanks Ginny, I got it from Scott's cousin, Jess."

"Another outfit of mine she wears a million times better than I ever did," Jess said, walking over and holding out a hand to Ronnie. "And how are yeh, Miss Ronnie? How's the wand?"

The Weasleys, McIntyres, and Harriet all sat down together. They ordered breakfast and filled each other in on their summers. Ronnie told Harriet all about Egypt.

"Well the tours and tombs and stuff were cool, but what I liked best was coming across a Muggle football camp there too," Ronnie said. "Learned some pretty good tricks to practice, which is good, because that was the excuse we gave my summer league coach: I was going abroad to a special football camp for the summer."

"Yeah, I bet he wasn't happy to hear you'd be gone."

"No, he really wasn't… but that story satisfied him I think."

Harriet was excited to tell Ronnie and Ginny all about her summer at McIntyre Manor.

"Fishing? That—that sounds like the most _boring_ thing ever. All you do is just sit there and wait for a fish to bite? Seriously?" Ronnie asked.

"Ohhhhh, I wish I could have seen the unicorns," Ginny moaned.

Harriet smiled. It was something like winning the House Cup to see how well Ginny had returned to her normal self after everything that had happened the previous year. She supposed some time with her family and having fun again in Egypt had helped Ginny get over much of the damage.

It was Hermione who turned up next. She was pleased to see Harriet, but unlike Ronnie and Ginny, she didn't have quite the same outlook on Harriet's unintentional magic. "You're just lucky you weren't expelled," Hermione scolded.

"I told you, Hermione, I lost control! She was attacking me, what was I supposed to do?"

"Well, okay you're right but—"

"Oh leave her alone, Hermione," Ronnie said, rolling her eyes. "She's fine isn't she?"

"So tell me about your time in France," Harriet said, changing the subject.

They listened to Hermione's story of her vacation. Harriet was more interested in Hermione's tale than Ronnie and Ginny were, as most of the sites Hermione had seen were Muggle in nature. Her cousin, Camille, who was also a Muggle-born, had shown Hermione around several magical locations.

It was then that Harriet started to notice there was something a little different about Hermione. She was wearing a simple blue t-shirt, grey shorts and flats, but Harriet noticed a distinct change. While Hermione had been average sized, she now seemed slimmer than she had before the summer, and her arms and legs seemed to be much more toned and muscly compared to last year.

Harriet was about to ask about it when finally Kieran and Scott came down the stairs. They greeted the other girls enthusiastically despite still looking half-asleep. Mrs O'Brien and McIntyre both fussed over the boys, producing combs from nowhere and attempting to tame their wild bed hair.

Next to arrive was Marcus and his father. Mr Weasley greeted Mr Van De Lakk with his usual excitement whenever he met Muggles while Marcus was grinning ear to ear and looking unusually proud. The reason for that was evident when he produced a copy of that morning's _Daily Prophet_.

_**Lockhart Locked-Up!**_

_Gilderoy Lockhart given eighteen month sentence in Azkaban_

"Should have been more," Marcus grumbled. "Too many of his fans pleaded for a light sentence… but still, got what he deserved anyway!"

Harriet had to agree. Despite having told them the whole story in his letters, Marcus couldn't help but give them all the play-by-play of his time in the trial against Lockhart and his trip to Canada with Professor Dumbledore.

"So, what did you think of Jackson?" Harriet asked.

Marcus shrugged. "He seemed an okay bloke. Didn't talk much, didn't seem to want to trust anyone or anything but the horse. I kinda hope he'll be in Gryffindor actually, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Bet he'll be a real laugh when he loosens up a bit."

"Yeah, that was what I thought too," Scott said.

"You met him then?" Marcus asked.

"Harriet and I did," Scott said. "He came to the house so Jess could make him a new wand."

Harriet shot a side-ways glance at Scott. Again she noted how unwilling he was to talk about his family's wealth, calling his home a 'house' instead of a 'manor'. She still wasn't sure why. She supposed he simply did not like to brag, as his family's status and money was not exactly a secret.

"Was he any more talkative with you lot?" Marcus asked. "Didn't talk much with me. Mostly just listened, then wanted to make absolutely sure his horse really could come to Hogwarts too."

"Interesting… well the horse definitely could. They showed up with the horse when he came to get his measurements for Jess to make his wand. He wasn't real talkative then either, especially after he saw Harriet," Scott added.

Kieran choked on his pumpkin juice and Marcus raised his eyebrows. "Really?" Marcus asked, grinning.

"Oh shut up," Harriet muttered. "He wasn't that bad."

"No, but he was obvious," Scott muttered.

"Since when are you so protective?" Hermione asked, coolly.

Scott flushed. "I'm not! Well, I am, I was just surprised is all."

"Suuuuure," Ronnie teased, making Scott go even redder.

"Oy! You lot!" called another familiar voice from the doorway. Dora had finally arrived. She was beaming as she came in to the pub, an arm around her younger sister, Emma. Again Harriet found it amusing that despite being two years younger than Dora, Emma looked to have a full five-inch height advantage on her older sister.

Dora beamed hugging Emma tighter as she marched her up to the table. "Guess who's all ready to do her very first bit of Hogwarts shopping?"

"Hey way to go, Emma," Marcus said cheerfully.

Emma's eyes went wide at being talked to directly and her face turned very pale. Harriet smiled warmly at her reassuringly.

"You're going to have a great time today! Diagon Alley's one of the coolest places ever, and you'll get your wand!"

Emma blinked a few times and slowly nodded, without smiling.

"What house do you think you're going to get?" Ginny asked.

"Dunno," was all Emma managed to say.

Ronnie shot Harriet an awkward look. "Well let's say we all go out shopping? We can get a lot of it done before the big crowds arrive!"

"Good thought," Marcus agreed and they all got to their feet.

"Where to first?" Scott asked.

"Quality Quidditch Supplies," Dora said, grinning ear to ear and giving Harriet a knowing look.

"Oh alright," Hermione groaned.

"Awwww still not a Quidditch fan, Hermione?" Scott teased. "I'm shocked."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harriet smiled. It was good to see Scott coming a bit more out of his shell and joking more openly. She wondered if her spending the summer there had helped.

"Well, I know we have to stop by the pet shop at some point," Ronnie said and she pulled Scabbers out of her hoodie. "Poor Scabbers hasn't looked right since we got back from Egypt."

There was no arguing with that. Scabbers was usually a bit woebegone, even by rat standards, but at the moment he looked completely miserable. His ears and whiskers were drooping and he was missing hair in a couple places.

Emma remained behind to do her shopping with Mr and Mrs Flamel. Mrs Weasley made them all promise to meet up at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour at noon. They agreed and began making their way as quickly as they could towards Quality Quidditch Supplies. It was only ten o'clock, and Harriet was surprised at the size of the crowd that was already gathered.

"Wonder what the occasion is?" Kieran asked.

Harriet and her friends managed to squeeze through the thick crowd to the front window of the shop. Once there, Harriet's jaw fell open. On a podium in the shop's front window was the most beautiful broom Harriet had ever seen. Its handle was so smooth and polished it looked to be made of wood coloured glass.

"Knew you'd want to see this," Dora said in Harriet's ear. "The _Firebolt_. Greatest racing broom ever made."

Harriet found it hard to argue with Dora's assessment. From just seeing the broom once, Harriet knew there was nothing in the world she wanted more.

Scot whistled looking at a placard. Harriet leaned forward and read too.

_**THE FIREBOLT**_

_This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, superfine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch-twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of nought to 150 miles per hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable Braking Charm. Price on request._

Harriet groaned reading the final sentence. _Price_ _on_ _Request_. She didn't even want to think about how much the _Firebolt_ must cost. Her parents had left her quite a pile of gold, but it wasn't infinite in size, and Harriet had five more years at Hogwarts including this one to make it all last.

There was also the fact that even if her _Nimbus Two-Thousand_ could not fly quite as fast as the _Firebolt_, it was still one of the best brooms in her school. She could compete with the Slytherin teams' newer _Nimbus Two-Thousand Ones_, and she was sure that as wealthy as his family was, Draco Malfoy's father was unlikely to spend quite that much on a _Firebolt_ for him.

After ogling the _Firebolt_ a little longer, they moved on to the Apothecary where they refilled all their Potions ingredients. From there it was Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. They had all grown so much every one of them needed new robes, though none more so than Scott, who had easily grown the most, now rivalling Ronnie for height.

"What say we get our books now?" Kieran suggested.

"Well, we still have a lot of shopping to do, do we really want to be lugging around books that whole time?" Dora asked.

"Well we could always take the books back to the Leaky Cauldron then go back to more fun shopping?" Hermione suggested.

"Yeah, that's a good thought," Ronnie said and held out her arm as if brandishing a sword. "Okay, to Flourish and Blotts!"

"Now with less Lockhart than ever before!" Marcus said striking a similar pose.

Everyone laughed and they made their way through the swarms of people to the book shop. Half an hour later, they left with all their books in tow.

"I've… I've never seen a grown man cry like that before," Dora muttered.

"Me neither," Harriet agreed.

Upon reaching the shop, Harriet had immediately solved another of the mysteries she had been pondering that summer. It turned out that the snarling, snapping, biting book that Hagrid had sent her, telling her only that it would "come in useful" was the set book for Care of Magical Creatures, which Harriet and all her friends would be starting this year.

Apparently the shopkeepers couldn't control the books either. As the group walked up to the cage full of fighting books, the assistant who was standing beside them took one look at the size of the group and burst into tears. His reward was being bitten eight times while trying to fetch six copies of the book. As they paid, every one of them told the assistant to keep the change for his troubles.

"Blimey, Hermione," Marcus grunted as they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. "Just how many classes are you taking again?"

Hermione had bought so many books that the three boys all pitched in to help her carry them.

"Oh, a lot," Hermione said vaguely.

"Noooooo you think?" Ronnie muttered in Harriet's ear. Harriet giggled.

They deposited their shopping in their rooms and made their way to the Magical Menagerie. Hermione was also eyeing Eeylops Owl Emporium as they passed.

"You know, I really would like an owl of my own, finally," she said rubbing her chin in thought. "Mum and Dad gave me some early birthday money in case I wanted to get one…"

"Well they sell them in the Menagerie too," Ronnie said. "Come on."

The Menagerie was one of the more crowded shops Harriet had ever been in. Not from people, but from the animals. It was almost deafeningly loud from all the squawking and screeching, and they found it nearly impossible to navigate the awkwardly stacked cages and tanks full of some of the most fanciful animals Harriet had ever seen. There were normal animals like owls and cats and toads and rats, but also more fantastic creatures such as a rabbit that could turn itself into a top-hat, and a tortoise with actual jewels in its shell. Even the otherwise normal animals seemed to be special. There was a cage of rats on the counter that looked like ordinary garden rats, except for the fact they were using each other's tails as jump-ropes.

Harriet and the others looked around the shop while Ronnie stood in line, waiting for the witch working the counter to finish giving instructions to a customer on the care of double-ended newts. Harriet, Scott and Marcus picked out some owl treats for their owls while Hermione perused the shop's selection of owls. Despite her earlier interest in an owl, none seemed to strike her fancy as she went back and forth, studying them all.

Finally, Ronnie made it to the counter. Harriet, Scott and Marcus got in line behind her.

"How may I help you?" the witch asked as Ronnie stepped up.

"It's my rat, Scabbers, I think he's really ill," Ronnie replied, pulling Scabbers from her pocket and setting him on the counter. Scabbers flopped down pathetically. The rats who had been playing jump-rope stopped and scampered over to the side of the cage, looking at Scabbers with interest.

"Dear dear… he is a bit the worse for wear, isn't he?" the witch asked, picking up Scabbers delicately, studying his hairless patches, his ragged left ear and front right paw, which had a missing toe.

"H-he… I know he's old… but he always seemed so healthy all these years, but we just got back from Egypt and…"

Ronnie trailed off as emotion and concern washed over her. The witch grimaced looking from Ronnie to Scabbers. "Well, how old is the poor dear?" the witch asked.

"I-I dunno…" Ronnie said. "He first belonged to my brother, so at least twelve I think…"

The witch's eyes went wide at this news. "And-er-what powers does he have?" she asked awkwardly.

"Uhhh…" Ronnie trailed off. Harriet knew what Ronnie was thinking: Scabbers had never shown a trace of being magical.

The witch sighed sympathetically. "Well… this… is hard to say dear but, a common rat such as Scabbers here usually only lives three years or so… and the fact he's managed to live to be this old is incredible, but… I'm not sure what can really be done…"

The witch paused taking in Ronnie's stricken face. "Well, I do have a rat tonic that might be useful, dear."

The witch knelt behind the counter and rose with a small red bottle. Ronnie looked relieved at the prospect of the tonic. "Oh thanks," Ronnie said smiling again. "How much will it be-AHH!"

At that moment, a large streak of orange fur leapt down onto the counter top from the tallest stack of cages. It hissed and spat and swiped at Scabbers.

"NO CROOKSHANKS! BAD CAT! BAD!" the witch cried and attempted to pull Scabbers out of harm's way.

Scabbers however seemed to rouse himself from his near-death behaviour and sprang to life. He shot out of the witch's hand and off the counter, too fast for either the witch, Ronnie, or the massive cat that had attacked him. He hit the floor and shot from the door too fast to be seen.

"SCABBERS!" Ronnie cried and tore out of the shop after him. Marcus and Harriet dropped their owl treats and tore out of the shop after her.

Even with three people searching it took almost fifteen minutes to find Scabbers. He was hiding under a waste-bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. By that point they were in danger of running late for their rendezvous at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

"What on _earth_ was that?" Ronnie asked, glaring back at the pet shop.

"I dunno," Harriet said. "But it meant business."

"Well let's go get the rat tonic," Ronnie grumbled. "See if I ever shop at that—"

Ronnie was cut off by the sight of Hermione, Scott, Kieran and Dora walking towards them. Hermione was beaming, but she was not holding an owl. Instead, she was carrying the enormous ginger cat. Dora was cooing over it while Kieran was looking incredulous and Scott was looking at the cat sceptically.

"You bought that thing?!" Ronnie asked, gaping.

"Isn't he _gorgeous_?" Hermione asked, looking down at the cat reverently.

Harriet bit her lip. Now that it was simply purring contentedly in Hermione's arms she began to appreciate the cat's appearance. His fur was very thick and looked soft and cuddly. His face was flat in an almost human-like way, and its thick tail looked adorably like a bottle-brush.

"But, we share a dormitory!" Ronnie said. "How's Scabbers supposed to get any rest and relaxation with that thing about?!"

"He's not a thing!" Hermione snapped cuddling the cat tighter. "His name's Crookshanks. The poor dear's been in there for ages, no one's wanted him."

"I'm so shocked," Ronnie grumbled, cuddling her hoodie pouch where Scabbers was hidden.

"Well," Dora said thoughtfully, scratching Crookshanks behind the ears. "If he'd be a problem in your dormitory…"

Hermione glowered pulling Crookshanks away possessively. "Of course he won't be a problem, no you would never be a problem, would you Crookshanks?" she cooed.

Marcus and Ronnie both looked dumbstruck.

"Oh, here," Dora said stepping towards Ronnie. She held out the bottle of rat tonic. "You forgot this, I got it for you, it was only a few knuts."

"Oh, uh th-thanks, Dora," Ronnie stammered, looking abashed.

"And you forgot your owl treats," Kieran said holding the bag out to Harriet.

"Oh, thanks Kieran," Harriet said reaching into her moneybag. "How much—"

"Oh forget it," Kieran said waving a hand dismissively.

"But—?"

"I said it's fine," Kieran smiled. "They're not that much, just a two-year present for Hedwig let's say?"

Harriet blushed but smiled.

"We've, uh, we've gotta get back to Fortescues," Scott said, looking at his watch.

They started back up the street, Hermione and Dora continuing to coo over Crookshanks while Ronnie kept giving the cat dirty looks and Scott gave it thoughtful ones. Harriet dropped back to talk to him.

"Why do you keep looking at Crookshanks like that?"

"That's _not_ a normal cat," Scott muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"It's too big," Scott said. "And that fur… that cat's part-kneazle or my name's not Scott McIntyre."

"Kneazle?" Harriet asked.

"Er, magical felines; very intelligent, almost dangerously so. Particularly, if you're untrustworthy… lots of wizard families use them as sort of living sneakoscopes, they're great at detecting secrecy and will actually attack those they deem threats."

Harriet digested this information but didn't get to discuss it further as they finally reached the ice cream parlour.

"There you all are," Mrs McIntyre said. She and Mrs Weasley both looked equally worried.

"We're five minutes from noon," Ronnie protested, looking at her watch.

"No need to be snippy," Mrs Weasley said, hands on her hips making Ronnie flush.

"Sorry, mum."

Jess let out a booming laugh from nearby. They all turned to see her sitting at a table a little ways away. At first Harriet thought she was sitting by herself, but then realized she was talking to Florean Fortescue, with a distinct twinkle in her eye. Fortescue himself was looking rather flushed. Jess caught Harriet's eye and gave her a tiny wink before she returned her attention to Fortescue.

Scott rolled his eyes, going red with embarrassment as Jess continued to flirt with Fortescue.

"Hey, she's single, she deserves to have fun," Harriet said. Jess had defended her several times from Scott's teasing, it was only fair to defend her back.

"Does she have to be so public about it though?" he moaned miserably.

"Oi, Harriet, come on over here I'll introduce you to the man himself," Jess called. Harriet smiled and walked over.

"Goodness, nice to see you again, Miss Potter," Fortescue said bowing and pulling out a chair for Harriet to sit.

Harriet sat. "How are you today, Mister Fortescue?" she asked politely.

"Oh fine, thank you," Fortescue said. "Jess and I were just discussing some magical history."

"Oh?" Harriet asked. She was immediately reminded of Professor Binns' awful History of Magic lessons. Fortescue seemed like he would be much more interesting to learn magical history from.

"Yes, just—what the devil?"

Fortescue turned and looked towards the others. Harriet turned too and saw Hermione was fighting with Crookshanks. The cat had gotten out of her arms but had actually jumped up and grabbed hold of Hermione's shirt, almost like a dog. He was tugging madly, pulling Hermione down the street.

"Crookshanks, no stop Crookshanks, let go! Let—"

Hermione did not get to finish her sentence. At that moment, the ground seemed to roll beneath their feet and it felt as though someone big and invisible had hit Harriet hard, knocking her off her chair. The table and chairs toppled over as well. There was a horrific boom that hurt Harriet's ears and she clapped her hands down over them. All she could hear now was ringing. There was debris raining down all around her and she curled up, crying out in fear and pain.

She opened her eyes again, panic starting to well up in her mind. What had just happened? What was going on? Where was everyone? There were feet scrambling past her going in countless directions. Strong hands grabbed hold of Harriet's arms and hauled her up. She was face to face with Fred Weasley. His eyes were wide with shock, and he had a burst vessel in his left eye, the white mostly red now. Harriet noted he was also bleeding from his ears. His lips were moving but Harriet couldn't hear him. She couldn't hear anything but the ringing. She tried to speak but she couldn't hear herself either.

Before Harriet could do anything else, Fred knelt and hoisted her up over his shoulder. Harriet tried to protest but as she looked back from Fred's shoulder her mouth fell open. Where there had once been a tall, grand-looking office building four places down across the street, there was now a smoking pile of rubble. The entire front of the offices had been destroyed. People were scrambling about, some running towards the wreckage to help, others running away in terror.

They reached the Leaky Cauldron. Fred passed through the magical doorway in the stone wall and into the pub itself before he finally set her down. He put his hands on her cheeks and looked at her from very close.

"Ha-r-r-r-riet-t-t-t-t c-c-c-can you h-h-hear me-e-e-e?" she vaguely heard Fred's voice ask. It sounded as though he was inside a big coliseum, his voice echoing. Harriet glanced past him to see a small crowd of people being led into the pub from the street.

"Ye-yeah," Harriet replied. She was starting to be able to hear herself too.

"Good. You alright? Not hurt anywhere?"

"I-I don't think so," Harriet replied. She was starting to panic again. What if she was hurt and she didn't know it? Her breathing started to get faster and she began looking herself over frantically trying to find injuries.

Fred hugged her tight. "It's okay Harriet, you're okay, you're okay," he kept repeating over and over again.

"What happened?" Harriet asked, but Fred did not answer.

More adult wizards and witches were helping carry others into the pub. Everyone looked terrified and shocked. Tom came bustling up, looking around with wide, disbelieving eyes. Even from here inside the pub Harriet could see the cloud of smoke rising from the place where the tall office building used to be.

"Wha-what happened?" Tom asked and he hustled out of the pub to the entrance to Diagon Alley.

"My God… the _Prophet_… someone blew up _The Daily Prophet_!" Harriet heard Tom cry out.

Harriet began looking around frantically for all her friends. Scott was with his parents, the Weasleys were altogether now except for Fred who was still holding Harriet. Ginny had her hands clamped over her ears still, rocking back and forth and screaming as Mr and Mrs Weasley tried to calm her down. Kieran was sitting with his own parents, wrapped in a blanket and clutching his shillelagh tightly, his eyes wide. Hermione was clutching Crookshanks while being tended to by Jess. Dora and Emma were cuddling each other and Mr and Mrs Flamel stood over them, their wands drawn. Marcus meanwhile was with his own father, both looking equally rattled.

A wave of relief washed over Harriet. Somehow, miraculously, they all looked safe. Harriet looked into the pub now. Many people were pushing forward, trying to see what was going on.

"The _Prophet_?"

"Never."

"But what then?"

"An accident?"

"What accident could have caused an explosion like that?"

However, it wasn't the onlookers that caught Harriet's attention. It was one man in particular. He was still sitting at his table, sipping a cup of tea placidly. He set the tea-cup down and rose to his feet. He was tall and thin, wearing a pure-white suit. He had long, black hair tied into a ponytail and a matching white fedora under his arm. He turned and actually looked Harriet right in the eyes. His gaze was steely and cold even though his lips were curled into a smile. He put a finger to his lips and turned and strode casually from the pub as if nothing had happened at all.

Harriet felt her heart clench even tighter. She knew that gaze. It was the same gaze she had been fitted with by Tom Riddle. The man wasn't Riddle, but there was no mistaking that look now. Harriet would never forget it. Once again, Harriet had just looked into the eyes of a murderer.


	7. The Bomber and the Dementor

Chapter 7

The Bomber and the Dementor

"How sad it is how regularly our best of intentions create the worst of situations."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

When her hearing returned, everything became a blur for Harriet. She didn't have time to process what was happening. The Leaky Cauldron was suddenly filled with Ministry employees from the department of Magical Law Enforcement, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and healers and medi-wizards from St Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies and Injuries. In spite of it all, Harriet was impressed by how quickly and how well the Ministry responded, almost as if they were expecting something to happen. Then she reminded herself with Sirius Black on the loose, they probably were.

Within twenty minutes of their arrival, Aurors were questioning everyone if they had caught sight of Black in the area. Harriet wasn't surprised by that. What she was surprised by was the reaction when she asked Mr Weasley about the man in white. Mr Weasley had looked horror struck and within five minutes Harriet found herself in a room with Mr and Mrs Weasley, Mr and Mrs McIntyre, the head of the Auror office, the Minister of Magic himself, and a short, portly woman in a hot pink cardigan who reminded Harriet forcibly of a toad.

Harriet had never seen the Head of the Auror Office before, a man named Rufus Scrimgeour, or the pink toad-woman. Harriet knew who Cornelius Fudge was, as she had been hiding in Hagrid's hut when Fudge had arrived to arrest him for the petrification attacks on students. As Hagrid was innocent, this was still a very sore spot with Harriet.

Rufus Scrimgeour was one of the more formidable looking men Harriet had ever seen. He put her in mind of an old lion. His hair was thick like a mane and streaked with grey. He also wore wire-rimmed spectacles that often flashed opaque white in the light from the crackling fireplace as he paced the floor.

The woman had been introduced as Dolores Umbridge, the Minister's Senior Undersecretary. Harriet supposed she seemed pleasant enough. She greeted everyone warmly with a girly laugh, which sounded forced to Harriet. At the moment she was sitting quietly in a corner, holding a clipboard with a piece of parchment and a quill. She was furiously writing down Harriet's account of what she had seen and Fudge and Scrimgeour's responses. Umbridge seemed so focused she did not notice the small, shiny blue beetle scurrying up her sleeve.

Compared to Scrimgeour, Cornelius Fudge looked even dumpier and a little feebler than Harriet remembered. She couldn't help feeling that if she hadn't known who either man was she would have guessed that Scrimgeour was the Minister instead of Fudge. Fudge was sitting in an arm-chair fiddling with his bowler hat and rubbing his shiny bald spot while Scrimgeour paced, deep in thought.

Fudge looked at Harriet. "You are certain that is the man you saw, Harriet?" he asked. By the sound of it, he was hoping that Harriet was not so certain.

"Yes, sir," Harriet replied. "He had long black hair, a round face, light skin, clean shaven, and was wearing an all-white suit with a white hat. He… he just looked at me, went 'shhh' and left. He was smiling, like he didn't have a care in the world."

Scrimgeour continued to pace the room. "It could only be Kinney, Minister. And by his actions he was clearly involved."

"Yes, I know that, Rufus, but what can we possibly do about it? The _Prophet_ is going to be worse than ever, how could this have happened?"

"We underestimated him, Minister," Scrimgeour said. It seemed as though they had forgotten the other people were in the room. "Howe warned us about what Kinney was capable of. Never dreamed he would dare try something so bombastic, er, pardon the expression, here in Britain. Against his direct enemy in the States is one thing but to carry out an attack like this in a foreign nation that has not even given formal support of his enemy?"

"He did it to send a message, that's why he attacked the _Prophet_," Fudge said, shrewdly. "Diagon Alley was full of families with children today. He could have gone after them, but he chose the _Daily_ _Prophet_. The _Prophet_ is going to want to know what happened, and when they find out I could have saved all those lives by simply turning over a few children who aren't even from here," he sighed.

"They would rather you turned over innocent children and give into a madman?" Mr McIntyre asked. Fudge and Scrimgeour both jumped and turned to look at Mr McIntyre. Harriet on the other hand was surprised by the way Fudge and Scrimgeour looked at him with rapt attention.

"This…" Fudge sighed and put a hand on his face. "Of course I wouldn't, Dorian. I knew Kinney was dangerous, I had been warned. But I wasn't going to let this man walk in and take over the place, and I was certainly not going to turn over innocent children into his hands. But you know the _Prophet _as well as anyone. They love a scandal and now I've got blood on my hands! _Their_ blood!"

Fudge rubbed his forehead. Harriet could almost see the wheels turning in his brain. He glanced at Harriet and his eyes widened and a look of relief came over his face, as though he had just been struck with a brilliant idea.

There was a knock on the door. Fudge nodded to Ms Umbridge, who got up and answered the door. Another Auror was there, looking grave and holding out an envelope. This Auror was very tall and black, with a bald-head and a fang earring.

"Ah, Kingsley, come in. Any new information?"

"Yes, Minister," Kingsley said. He nodded politely to Harriet and the others before turning back to Fudge. "We have found a note, Minister, and the analysis is in on the explosives used."

Fudge grimaced and Scrimgeour crossed to Kingsley. "Well done, Shacklebolt. Let me see."

"Minister, would you mind terribly if we got Harriet to bed? She's told you all she knows about what she saw and I don't think we're strictly relevant to the conversation anymore," Mr McIntyre said putting a hand on Harriet's shoulder.

"Oh, yes," Fudge said smiling kindly at Harriet. "Thank you, my dear, for this information. You have done a great service, and it's good to know that at least one person in all of this was paying proper attention."

Harriet flushed. Mr McIntyre nodded and put a hand under Harriet's arm, gently lifting her to her feet. The Weasleys rose too. Fudge and Scrimgeour began talking again as they were leaving but Harriet was too distracted to hear what they were saying.

Mrs Weasley guided Harriet towards her room. It was only three in the afternoon, so Harriet wasn't sure exactly why she was going to bed. However, as she got closer and closer to the room she felt more tired. Maybe it would be good to just lie down for a little while; get washed up, get into pyjamas and lie in bed with her eyes closed. That sounded wonderful.

She closed her window, shutting out the sounds coming from the street. She was just climbing into bed when Ronnie came in. "Ginny's gonna be okay, the healers managed to get her hearing back," Ronnie said miserably.

"How's Fred?" Harriet asked. She would never forget the sight of his stricken face, one blood-red eye and bleeding ears.

"He's okay too. His eye will be red for a while but his ears are fine."

"Good," Harriet replied, pulling her covers up to her chin. She felt the weight of the day melting off her shoulders as she lay down.

Ronnie changed too before closing the curtains. The room became almost as dark as if it were night-time. Harriet curled up on her side, grabbing one of the extra pillows and hugging it tightly to her chest.

She could hear Ronnie tossing and turning as she tried to fall asleep. After what felt like an hour, she heard Ronnie slide out of bed and pad over to her. "Harriet?"

"Yeah?"

"Can…"

"Yeah," Harriet said immediately and pulled back her covers.

Ronnie climbed in and cuddled up against Harriet. Harriet smiled remembering the times during her first year when she was having nightmares and Ronnie had comforted her. Harriet pulled the covers back over them. After another ten minutes, the door to their room opened and Ginny snuck in too. Harriet smiled making more room and finally fell asleep.

* * *

When Harriet awoke the following morning, she did not want to believe the previous day had happened. But it had. She was sure of it because there was no other reason she would find herself cuddling with not just Ronnie and Ginny, but Hermione, Dora, and Emma as well. She remembered when Hermione had come in, but not the other two.

The girls slowly got out of bed and all but Ronnie went back to their rooms to get cleaned-up and dressed. Harriet combed her hair and sat on her bed, just staring at her trunk as if willing it to fly open and give her some clothes to wear. Somehow, in light of everything that happened the day before, Harriet wanted to feel special and pretty. She pulled out her dinner party outfit and put it on. However, instead of the original hair scarf she had she put on the one she had got from Kieran instead.

Ronnie got dressed as well, but opted for a simple t-shirt, and jeans. She put on a hoodie, stuffing the miserable looking Scabbers in the pouch. They made their way downstairs to the dining room. Harriet kept running over the previous day in her head. It had all been so peaceful and fun and it all changed with an ear-splitting explosion that shook the ground and levelled half of a five story office building.

The quiet in the dining room was almost deafening after yesterday. There seemed to be no one in the pub except for the Weasleys, the McIntyres, the O'Briens, the Flamels, Jess, Hermione and Harriet (and the Aurors who were stationed at the doors, their wands in their hands).

Dora was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. "Oh that's so cute," Dora said admiring Harriet's outfit as she and Ronnie reached the landing.

"Oh, thanks, Dora," Harriet replied. "Just felt like looking… nice… today…" she mumbled.

Dora smiled and bumped Harriet's shoulder. "Oh come on, Harriet, you always look nice."

Harriet flushed. "Th-thanks," she stammered and smiled a little in spite of herself.

"Since when are you so cheery and nice?" Ronnie grumbled. She sounded half-asleep.

Dora scowled. "Well she did at least put a little effort into her appearance instead of looking like she just got done gardening," she spat.

Ronnie laughed. "That sounds like the snotty blondie we know and love."

Dora rolled her eyes and they made their way past one of the parlours. The adults were all inside, gathered around a table. They were all arguing amongst themselves.

"I can't believe Fudge thought he could get away with trying to pin this on Black when he knew perfectly well there were witnesses who saw Kinney. Harriet couldn't possibly have been the only person to see him."

"But how could Skeeter have overheard? Some of the things in that article… "_This very credible eye witness described Kinney perfectly and said he looked at her and told her to 'shhh' before leaving the Leaky Cauldron._" How could Skeeter have known that? Harriet didn't tell anyone else that information!"

Harriet flushed, making her way to the sitting room, not wanting the adults to know she had overheard them talking. Despite her usual thirst for any and all information, after last night, Harriet was feeling a bit less like snooping and prying into other people's affairs. At the moment, all she really felt like doing was being happy to be alive.

That was the main thought that had struck Harriet in the middle of the night sometime between when Hermione came in and Dora and Emma apparently joined them: how close she had come to dying yesterday. And it hadn't been because of some plot by Voldemort's, or even Sirius Black's. It had simply been being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It struck her in a way it never had before.

They all sat down in the soft arm chairs. Kieran, Scott, Marcus and Emma were already in the room. Emma was sitting off by herself.

Kieran smiled warmly. "Hey you lot," he said in greeting and took in Harriet's outfit. "Wow, you look great, oh, is that the scarf I got you?"

"Yeah, it is," Harriet replied, smiling.

Dora shot a cryptic look at Kieran but he did not seem to notice. Instead he glanced at Scott who smiled. Harriet shook her head. She was too rattled and had too much on her mind to worry about what was going on.

Hermione came in, her face stuck deep into a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. "You've got to hand it to them, their main office gets bombed and they still manage to print an edition the next day, full of, well, uncomfortably accurate information."

"Yeah, so we've heard," Scott muttered, jerking his head towards the door where the adults were still arguing.

Hermione set the paper down on the coffee table and Scott picked it up. He read it and gave a snort of disgust before passing it off to Kieran. Kieran responded the same way and handed it off to Harriet.

_**BLACK STRIKES AGAIN!**_

_According to reports from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; the horrific bombing yesterday, which took the lives of thirty one members of the _Daily Prophet _staff as well as a family of four who were passing in front of the _Daily Prophet _offices at the time of the bombing, was perpetrated by none other than Sirius Black._

Harriet gasped clamping a hand over her mouth. She felt sick to her stomach. Coupled with her realization over how close she had come to dying by mere chance, she now knew just how many people had been killed without having any idea it was coming. Even a family of four had been killed. She felt a twinge of fear. What if one of the children killed was one of their schoolmates? How could she find out?

Another twinge of shock shot through Harriet's system. It had been Kinney, the man in the white suit, who had done it. He had killed all those people. And he had looked right at her, and smiled. He had been happy he had done it.

And yet, here in the article, they said it had been Sirius Black. Apparently the Ministry had told them that, but why? Cornelius Fudge knew that it had been Kinney, Harriet had told him so. Then she remembered the way Fudge had looked at her. Had that been what was going through Fudge's mind? He wanted to blame it on Black so the _Prophet_ wouldn't report on Fudge not apprehending another mass-murderer on the loose?

But if that was the case, what had the adults been talking about? Harriet flipped to the other half of the front page.

_**Black not to Blame?**_

_Contrary to contemporary reports, yesterday's vile, unmitigated attack on the Ministry of Magic offices (which nearly took the life of your dear author as well incidentally) which took the lives of many good, decent, hard-working Daily Prophet employees, was not the work of escaped mass-murderer, Sirius Black. No, instead, this heinous crime was carried out by someone entirely unknown to the wider magical population of Britain._

_I, Rita Skeeter, can report exclusively that the murderous assault on innocent lives yesterday was carried out by an American by the name of Solomon Kinney. Never heard of him? Of course you haven't. The Ministry saw to that. Apparently Mister Kinney was sent as an envoy from one of the seceding states in America to 'fetch' some of the refugee students. Through a spy network, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, was informed of this and intervened._

_This is where the praise for the Minister's actions ends. For you see, Fudge had been made aware of just how dangerous this individual was, and how his aim was not to reclaim misplaced children, but to kidnap them or worse in an attempt to silence their families who have been speaking out against the war. Fudge naturally refused Kinney and ordered him sent away. But in the process, Kinney clearly escaped._

_Now I know, you may say 'well if Fudge refused him and saved children's lives, why stop the praise?' Well it may have done the wider wizarding population of Britain some good to have been made aware of a killer, possibly even more dangerous than Sirius Black being on the loose? Because Solomon Kinney's death toll does not begin with the bombing of _The Daily Prophet_._

_No, it also happens to include another bombing that took place exactly one year ago today in America. Solomon Kinney was also responsible for the _Merlin Stadium Bombing _that killed no less than three hundred people by the time the rubble was cleared. And in that incident it was mostly Muggles who were killed. For Solomon Kinney is the devious striking arm of the lawless American Secessionist movement. And now he is running rampant in Britain, waiting to strike __again._

_Continued Page 2._

Harriet turned the page.

_Continued from Page 1._

_The truth of Kinney's involvement was verified shortly after the bombing itself, when an eye-witness spotted Kinney in the Leaky Cauldron within minutes of the attack. This very credible eye witness described Kinney perfectly and said he looked at her and told her to 'shhh' before leaving the Leaky Cauldron._

_Frankly, this is inexcusable. Fudge should have never taken these refugees, these outsiders, on in the first place. And he should send them right back where they came from. We don't need America's troubles here in Britain. Good riddance to bad rubbish! If only he had seen such sense before yesterday's senseless violence._

Harriet's stomach churned. She did not know who to be madder at; Fudge for lying or this Skeeter woman for calling her friends 'bad rubbish' and suggesting they be sen**t** back to a warzone. She put down the paper and Dora picked it up to read.

Harriet didn't know how to feel anymore. The only thing she knew was she wanted to get on the Hogwarts Express now more than ever. She wanted to get as far away from here as possible, to the only place she truly felt at home. She wanted to see the big castle and feel safe knowing nothing could get to her in there, not with Professor Dumbledore to protect them.

There was a quiet knock on the door to the sitting room and everyone turned. Jess was looking around at them all sympathetically. "Alright loves, time tah go. The Ministry will be escorting us all to the station in cars."

No one spoke as they got to their feet and followed Jess from the room. Harriet watched Ministry wizards carrying their trunks, owl cages, and one wicker basket containing the hissing, spitting Crookshanks, down the stairs for them and out the front door of the pub. There was a line of cars waiting, all with little flags marked "MoM" on the bonnets. Harriet was surprised, and so was everyone else, when the tall black Auror named Kingsley diverted Harriet from getting into the same car as her friends and instead to a car at the front of the line.

He opened the door for her and gave her a reassuring nod. Harriet climbed inside and was surprised to find Cornelius Fudge and his senior undersecretary again. The door closed and Fudge smiled down at her.

"Well, Harriet, I hope you don't mind, but I wanted a little further word with you in private, and thought this the most discrete way for all involved to do so," Fudge said pleasantly as the driver started the car.

"O-okay," Harriet said nervously. She was suddenly worried Fudge might think she had talked to that Skeeter woman.

"Well Harriet, I wanted to talk to you about this past summer," Fudge went on. "More specifically, about the night of the unfortunate incident with your Aunt."

Harriet grimaced. She didn't want to talk about that at all.

"I must say, Harriet, in light of the dangerous climate we're in, that I'm slightly disappointed that you chose to run off with two men you barely knew, rather than staying and waiting for official members of the Ministry of Magic to arrive and straighten the situation out," Fudge said.

Harriet flushed. "I… well… I didn't have a choice, sir… I was in shock from what had happened and then when the real Ministry wizards showed up Professor Howe grabbed my hand and we all just, ran…"

Fudge looked down at Harriet, his expression a calculating one. "Hmmm… Harriet, how many times have you met with Professor Sherrod Howe?"

Harriet thought. "Only… only once before, sir. The night Justin and Nearly-Headless Nick got petrified."

"Hm. Well, you'll find this hard to believe, Harriet, as I know he has a certain level of charisma and charm, but I would advise you in the strongest possible terms not to trust Sherrod Howe."

"Sir?"

"Sherrod often has his own agenda, and rarely does anything without having some personal reason. I might add that not even Professor Dumbledore trusts Sherrod Howe completely. Dumbledore was not happy that you were removed from your Aunt and Uncle's house either, you know?"

"Yeah, I-I did know," Harriet muttered.

She was suddenly starting to feel angry. Harriet knew one thing: Professor Howe had not lied to her. In fact, he had tried to tell her so much it made other people angry. Yet here was Fudge who had lied to not just Harriet, but the entire country. Not to mention he had arrested Hagrid, knowing Hagrid was probably innocent.

"Ah, yes, well, all I wanted to say, really. Just be cautious any time you are in contact with Sherrod Howe," Fudge said.

"Says you," muttered Harriet before she could stop herself.

"What was that?" Dolores Umbridge snapped while Fudge looked taken aback. Harriet noted that the girlish simper was gone from Umbridge's voice and she went from looking like a toad to a full-on bullfrog.

Harriet crossed her arms. "At least he didn't lie to everyone about what was going on with Kinney."

Fudge looked very uncomfortable. He fiddled with his bowler hat again. "That was… unfortunate," he said. "But it was necessary. We had expected Kinney to be removed from the country and it was almost a month before we figured out the Auror who was escorting him had been confounded so as to not remember Kinney escaping. By that point we had no idea where Kinney was or what he was truly capable of. I take it you read Miss Skeeter's take on the matter? Well, she only got it part right. It is still only rumoured that Kinney was behind the _Merlin Stadium Bombing_, not confirmed."

Fudge heaved a sigh. "And then I came up with the Black cover-story to continue to protect the refugees. I knew that revelation would breed more resentment towards them. The less people are aware of them, the safer they are. But, can't keep anything from the press, I suppose."

Harriet blinked. She had not expected Fudge to be that forthcoming, especially after Professor Howe had warned Harriet that Fudge and Dumbledore wanted to keep her in the dark. It was also not at all what Harriet had expected Fudge to say. Now she had no idea what to think of him. Fortunately, the awkward situation was diffused when the cars finally arrived at King's Cross. Harriet got out without a look back at either Fudge or Umbridge and stomped irritably back to her friends.

"What's eating you?" Ronnie asked.

"Later," Harriet muttered as an Auror brought up a trolley to put their luggage on.

They loaded up their trunks and made their way as a group into King's Cross Station. Harriet felt as though she was on auto-pilot as the Aurors smoothly funnelled the families through the hidden barrier to Platform 9 ¾. Before Harriet even realized it, she was pulling her trunk up onto one of the cars of the Hogwarts Express and putting it into a compartment with her friends.

They made their way back onto the platform to say their goodbyes. Harriet flushed but was rather pleased that she got plenty of extra hugs from all the parents. The whistle sounded, they climbed back aboard and the train pulled forward.

As the Hogwarts Express sped away, Harriet felt the weight beginning to slide off her shoulders. She was going back to Hogwarts. Back to Quidditch, and classes, and the Great Hall, the Gryffindor Common Room and her soft four poster bed.

They made their way back to their compartment. As they did, Ronnie brought up another subject that made Harriet feel even better: Hogsmeade. "It'll be so great to get out of the castle and grounds, won't it?" she asked as they reached their compartment and Marcus opened the door.

"Definitely," Harriet agreed. Hermione stepped into the compartment and they began filing in behind her. However, Hermione stopped, causing a domino effect of the others bumping into each other.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, rubbing her nose where she had bumped it into Marcus's back.

"There's someone else in here," Hermione whispered.

Harriet wondered why she was whispering but as the others moved inside, she found out. There was indeed a man sitting in a corner leaned up against the window. He looked to be sound asleep, breathing deeply.

By his face, Harriet would have guessed him to be in his thirties, but his hair had turned almost entirely grey. His robes were shabby and patched, and the soles were starting to come off his shoes.

"Where did he come from?" Scott asked. "He wasn't in here when we put our trunks in."

"Hey Ginny!" called a voice from down the corridor.

Ginny beamed and waved enthusiastically at two of her fellow second-years, Minako Minagawa and Minami Takamiya. She grabbed Emma's hand and began pulling her enthusiastically down the corridor.

"Come on, Emma! I'll introduce you to my friends!"

"But-but—!" Emma protested but to no avail as Ginny hauled her off.

Dora laughed. "And she's off… I knew school would do her a lot of good."

They sat, the four girls on one side, while the boys sat next to the sleeping man.

"Who do you think he is?" Harriet asked. Despite having no idea who the man was, she couldn't help but feel there was something familiar about him.

"Well, it says Professor R. J. Lupin on his case," Hermione said, pointing at the luggage rack over Professor Lupin's head. Harriet looked and saw the case there, which looked just as shabby as its owner.

"Think he's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Scott asked.

"Must be," Hermione said. "That's the only vacancy I can think of."

"Well, there is Muggle Studies," Scott replied. "Miss Burbage left."

"She did?" Hermione asked sounding disappointed. "I was looking forward to studying under her. I heard a lot of good things about her last spring."

"Well she runs the Department of Misplaced Youths at the Ministry. Essentially she liaises with the Muggle families of the American students and tries to protect them from people like Kinney," Scott explained.

"Well, okay that is a much loftier position then," Hermione said.

There was a hissing and spitting from the luggage rack above them and Hermione got up, opening Crookshanks basket. To everyone's surprise, Crookshanks leapt not onto any of their laps, but rather in the gap between Marcus and Professor Lupin, where he curled up and purred.

"Well, Crookshanks seems to be a fan of Professor Lupin, anyway," Scott muttered.

Crookshanks continued to purr, but Harriet couldn't help but notice that his bright, yellow eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the pocket of Ronnie's hoodie which contained the trembling Scabbers.

"You know," Dora said thoughtfully. "I was thinking about those articles this morning… we know Black didn't do it, but, for all the stories about him he has been rather quiet since his escape, hasn't he? No sightings, nothing. He just disappeared."

"That's—that's a good point," Hermione said. "There hasn't been any news about him at all, outside descriptions."

"It's like they're in a total panic over Black but they really did ignore Kinney altogether," Kieran added. "That is a little strange."

At that moment, a very faint whistling noise could be heard. They looked around when Ronnie pointed above Harriet's head. "It's coming from your trunk."

Harriet got up and opened her trunk. It was her Pocket Sneakoscope that she had placed inside a pair of Aunt Petunia's old pantyhose for safe-keeping.

"Oo, is that a Sneakoscope?" Hermione asked. "Where did you get it?"

"I gave it to her for her birthday," Ronnie said. "It's a really cheap one, mind. It kept lighting up and spinning at random times. Like when I was trying to tie it to Errol's leg to send to Harriet. Destroyed the first box I had it in, had to repackage it."

"Hmmm," Hermione hummed shrewdly. "Errol's a really old owl, yes?"

"Well, yeah," Ronnie said bemused.

"Were you _supposed_ to be using him to send a package to Harriet?"

"Well, no," Ronnie admitted. "But how else was I supposed to get Harriet her present?!"

Marcus laughed. "Either way, sounds like we identified the culprit!"

Ronnie rolled her eyes and kicked his foot.

"Though, if it does work, who's being untrustworthy?" Kieran asked.

Everyone looked around. Scott got up and flung the door to the compartment open. "No one there," he said sitting back down.

All eyes turned back to Professor Lupin, but if Lupin was still only pretending to sleep, he was very good at it. He barely moved except for the steady, slow rise and fall of his chest as he slept. Marcus even poked him very gently on the shoulder but he did not show any sign of noticing.

"Well, maybe it is a little faulty then," Hermione admitted.

Dora shrugged. "Who knows, anyway, it is weird isn't it? I mean, they're in such an uproar over Black that they've stationed Dementors around the Hogwarts grounds," Dora added.

"Dementors?" Harriet asked. She felt a chill run down her spine at the word. She had only ever heard rumours about the nature of Dementors, and she did not like them one bit.

"Yeah, I remember Dad complaining about it this summer. He didn't want them there anymore than Dumbledore did," Dora explained.

"Heh, sounds like he and Dumbledore have a good bit of sense about them then," Marcus muttered, idly scratching Crookshanks behind the ears. The cat's gaze did not waiver from the hidden Scabbers.

"Well, at least Dad and Dumbledore convinced the Ministry not to let the Dementors into the grounds, could you imagine trying to get through lessons or just living with those things sucking all the happiness out of you all the time?" Dora asked scoffing. "I mean it's bad enough I'm in Slytherin but come on!"

"Bad enough you're in Slytherin?" Ronnie asked raising an eyebrow.

Dora rolled her eyes. "I just mean they're not the cheeriest lot."

"Suuuuuure," Ronnie teased.

They passed more time talking about their new elective classes and trips into Hogsmeade. Harriet was excited to see the inside of Dusk to Dawn, the large Muggle clothing store where they had bought Ronnie her first football gear. The chance to buy her own brand new clothes that would fit her from the start was too good to pass up.

Hermione rattled on about the historical sites in Hogsmeade she wanted to see, while Ronnie fantasized over how much she wanted to get into Honeydukes, the wizarding sweets shop. The talk of Honeydukes made Harriet so hungry she almost jumped to her feet when the witch with the food trolley knocked on their door.

They attempted to arouse Professor Lupin but he still did not move. The witch told them she would be up front with the driver should Professor Lupin awake and want food. The group sat with their purchases and studied the sleeping man again.

"He didn't… like… die, did he?" Ronnie asked.

"No… he's still breathing," Marcus muttered looking closer at Professor Lupin.

A couple hours later it began to rain. The door to the compartment slid open and three people stepped in. Harriet had expected it to be Draco Malfoy and his cronies Crabbe and Goyle, but she was surprised (and not pleasantly) to see that it was instead her other three least favourite Slytherins; Pansy Parkinson, Pixie Fanfarró, and Wendy Aarons.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Pansy said. She looked as much like a pug as ever as she smirked around at them all.

"Well 'ladies' isn't quite the word I would use," Pixie said taking in Ronnie's hoodie and jeans. Behind them, Wendy laughed sycophantically. "And Potter what on _earth_ are you wearing?"

"Better than what you're wearing," Dora snapped. "Didn't the whole big pearl necklace and bangles thing go out of style two years ago?"

Pixie glowered but Pansy ignored her, still focusing on Harriet. "You go to a school that requires you to wear them but you _willingly_ chose to wear knee-highs? How are you not sick of them?" Pansy taunted.

Harriet flushed but Pixie started back in. "And that scarf, you seriously think that's gonna fool people that you don't have that stupid scar?"

Ronnie, Dora and Scott all made to get to their feet but to Harriet's surprise it was Kieran who got up first, using his shillelagh to pull himself up rapidly.

"Ooooo tough guy," Pansy smirked not backing down. She glanced from Kieran to the scarf and back. "Awwww, I get it. _You_ bought that for pwetty widdle Potter, didn't you? Dat's sho shweet… Made shuwe it matched her pwetty gween eyes?" she said, speaking in a sing-songy, baby-ish voice. Kieran scowled but his face went white and he gripped his shillelagh tighter.

"Did you send her one of those wovy-dovy poems wast Vawentine's Day too?" Pixie smirked, adopting the same voice. Wendy laughed even harder.

Professor Lupin snorted. Pansy, Pixie and Wendy froze.

"Who's that?" Pansy asked.

"New teacher," Ronnie growled, now on her feet too. "Shove off."

Pansy and Pixie glared before turning their noses up in the air and strutting from the compartment in a huff, Wendy following in their wake.

"What cows," Hermione spat.

Kieran sat, determinedly not meeting anyone's eyes, staring at his feet.

"So sick of those two," Dora growled. "How insecure do you have to be to go looking for someone to make feel bad?"

Harriet didn't say anything. She was looking down at her lap, strongly contemplating taking out some plainer clothes and changing in one of the rest rooms on the train. Dora bumped her shoulder.

"Oh stop it, you look fabulous and you know it," Dora said. "Just watch, give it a year or two and everyone'll be wearing them."

Harriet managed a little smile.

* * *

A few hours later, Harriet was sure they must be nearing Hogwarts. The storm outside had grown worse howling and rattling the window. Despite sleeping right against the window, Professor Lupin still showed no sign of waking.

The lights were lit in the corridor, and students had stopped running past. It was starting to feel unnaturally cold. Harriet shivered and hugged her light cardigan tighter around her. The three boys all looked at each other and rose getting into their trunks. Marcus and Scott both pulled out jumpers while Kieran took out a hoodie of his own. The boys all turned and handed them over to Dora, Hermione, and Harriet respectively.

Harriet flushed and put on the hoodie. It didn't exactly match, but it was warm. Harriet stuck her hands in the pouch but at that very moment, the train began to slow down.

"That's strange," Scott said looking out the window. "We can't be there yet."

"Then why are we stopping?" Dora asked. "Think we've broken down?"

"Maybe?" Kieran muttered. He got up and looked out the compartment door. At that moment, all the lights inside the car went out, plunging them into total darkness.

"What the—" Marcus muttered then yelped in pain. "That was my foot!"

"Sorry," Scott said.

The door to the compartment opened.

"Does anyone know what's going on?" came the voice of Neville Longbottom.

"Hey, Neville," Harriet said. "No clue. Here sit—OW!"

Neville tripped over her legs.

"Sorry," Neville muttered trying to get up to his feet. There was a hiss and Neville now shouted in pain. Apparently he had tried to sit on Crookshanks. There was a snort of a much deeper voice. Apparently Professor Lupin had woken up.

"What's going on?" Harriet heard him ask. His voice was hoarse and gruff, yet there was gentleness to his tone.

"Uh, the train stopped and the lights went out," Ronnie said.'

"No, you think?" Dora muttered.

"I'm going to speak to the driver," Professor Lupin said.

There was a crackling sound and Harriet blinked as a bright blue light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin was holding the same blue flames that Hermione knew how to conjure in his bare hand. Marcus, who was fond of flame spells, watched in awe.

Harriet however was looking at Professor Lupin's face. Again she could not help the feeling that there was something very familiar about him. His face looked even more lined and prematurely aged in the light from the flames, but his eyes were bright and alert.

Professor Lupin got to his feet and made his way to the door. He opened the door but grunted and took a step backwards. There were two squeals of surprise followed by two thump noises. In the light from Professor Lupin's flames, Harriet could see Ginny and Emma past him, sitting on the floor. Apparently they had run into him.

"Uh h-hello," Ginny said looking up at Professor Lupin with wide eyes. Professor Lupin smiled and held out a hand. Emma and Ginny both took hold of his hand and he pulled them up to their feet.

"Get into the compartment girls, there's something going on and I need you to get into the compartment and close the door," Professor Lupin said. The students nodded as Emma and Ginny sat in Professor Lupin's vacated seat.

He gave them all a reassuring smile and turned to leave the compartment. However, his path was blocked yet again. This time, it was by a towering, hooded and cloaked figure. Its robes were jet black, so black it seemed to suck all light into it. Harriet looked down and felt her insides clench.

There was a hand sticking out of its sleeve. The most horrible hand Harriet had ever seen. It looked rotted, covered in scabs and open, puss-seeping sores. The skin that wasn't covered in sores and scabs was grey and shiny, as if covered in slime. The hand vanished up into the sleeve and Harriet heard the newcomer take a deep, slow, rattling breath. It sounded the way Harriet imagined a dying person would sound, taking his last breaths.

The moment it began breathing, all heat was sucked from the room. Harriet instantly felt chilled to the bone despite wearing the hoodie. The cold started sapping her of energy and she felt light-headed. Her eyes lost focus and she lost her sense of balance. She felt like she was sinking in a deep pool.

In the distance, Harriet could hear something. It was high-pitched and growing louder. Harriet suddenly became aware that it was a scream. Someone, a woman by the sound of it, was screaming and pleading at the top of her lungs. Harriet wanted to help, but she felt so helpless herself, lost, doomed to be unhappy forever.

"Harriet!"

Harriet started. She opened her eyes and saw little spots of yellow light floating above her as well as black shapes. They looked hooded. It was more of the cloaked figure in the doorway. Harriet struggled trying to get away but she felt soft hands holding her. They were definitely not the scaly, scabbed hands of the cloaked figure.

"Harriet, wake up!"

Harriet gave her head a shake and finally came to her senses. She was lying on her back on one of the seats. Everyone was leaning down over her. The lights were back on and she felt like she was moving, which meant the train had started once more. Harriet looked around.

Scott was sitting with an arm around Hermione who was shivering. Ronnie was holding Ginny who looked as though she had been drained by Riddle's diary again. Dora was holding Emma while Marcus was sitting huddled up in the corner that Professor Lupin had been sleeping in. His eyes were wide and staring straight ahead. He looked almost dead. Neville and Professor Lupin were watching her and Harriet realized that by the angle, Kieran was directly above her. More than that, the pillow under her head could only be his lap.

Harriet tried to sit up quickly but her head swam once more and, embarrassing or not, she realized it was much, much easier to just lie down.

"Are you alright?" Kieran asked.

"Y-yeah," Harriet muttered. "I think so… what happened… wh-where was the screaming coming from…?"

"Uh, what screaming?" Ronnie asked.

Harriet started when she heard a loud snapping sound. Professor Lupin had gotten into his trunk and had taken out a large chocolate bar and was breaking it into pieces. He began handing the broken pieces out to everyone.

"Here, eat this chocolate, all of you," he said. "It's the best thing to fight off the aftereffects."

"Aftereffects of what?" Dora asked, shivering. "What was that thing?"

"That was a Dementor," Professor Lupin said. "Chocolate adds sugar to your system and builds endorphins in your brain, fighting off the effect the Dementors have. All of you eat the pieces I gave you while I go and speak to the driver."

Without another word, Professor Lupin strode out of the compartment and turned down the corridor. Everyone looked at Harriet again, except for Marcus who still seemed to be vacant. Feeling awkward, Harriet slowly tried to sit up again. Kieran helped lift her up and she took a bite of the chocolate. Professor Lupin had been right. Harriet felt warmth moving through her whole body.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Hermione asked.

"I… what happened?" Harriet asked. "I just remember the Dementor coming in and then… nothing."

"Well, yeah, it-it came in and… first it just looked around, and then it started breathing these horrible breaths and you just, fell over on the seat," Dora explained, rocking Emma a little. Had Harriet been in better spirits, she probably would have found the image of little Dora cuddling her five inch taller younger sister slightly comical.

"I thought you were having a seizure or something," Ronnie said.

"And then Professor Lupin drew his wand and pointed it at the Dementor. He said 'You can sense Sirius Black is not here, now go!' But the Dementor didn't leave, so he shot a Patronus at it and the Dementor left."

"He shot a _what_ at it?" Harriet asked.

"A Patronus," Scott said. "It's a special charm to ward off Dementors."

"It was bright, blinding silver light and I saw something move, it looked like an animal or something but I was too blinded to tell, and the Dementor left," Hermione explained.

Harriet shivered and clutched Kieran's hoodie tighter around herself. The chocolate had not got rid of all the after effects yet it seemed.

"Didn't… didn't anyone else pass out?" Harriet asked. She was starting to feel a little ashamed.

"N-no…" Ronnie said. "Ginny's shaking like mad though and… I don't know what's up with Marcus."

She let go of Ginny and moved over to the other seat. She put a hand on Marcus shoulder and he seemed to relax a little.

"Are you alright?" She asked holding up the piece of chocolate that Professor Lupin had set on the seat next to him.

Marcus slowly turned his head and looked at her. It was almost eerie, as if he were possessed. He took the chocolate and stuck it in his mouth, turning and looking out the window without saying a word. Ronnie bit her lip nervously but still rested a hand on his shoulder.

Professor Lupin came back in. He smiled to see them all eating their chocolate. "Good, is it working?"

"Yes, sir," everyone replied. Marcus only nodded.

"Good. We'll be there in ten minutes. Are you okay, Harriet?"

"Yes, sir," Harriet repeated.

Professor Lupin smiled and left the compartment once more. No one spoke as the train continued on, rattling and swaying, to its final destination of Hogsmeade Station.


	8. The Lost Boy and the Princess

Chapter 8

The Lost Boy and the Princess

"I once read how species adapt more rapidly in small, confined areas and small populations. I do not think that is necessarily true, particularly in the case of humanity. We humans instead are better served by knowledge. We need to be mobile and open and exploratory. We need to discover and seek out that which is new, rather than stay in a small space hoping for the best. How can you learn what is new and is different about life if you never seek it?"

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

None of the group had said a word by the time the Hogwarts Express chugged to a halt at Hogsmeade Station. As the train stopped, everyone pulled their robes from their trunks and put them on. The first to speak was Hermione, who broke the silence as she attempted to coax an irritated Crookshanks back into his wicker basket.

They left the compartment and exited the train. The rain had finally abated, and Harriet caught sight of the first comforting reminder that she really was back at Hogwarts: the massive form of Rubeus Hagrid.

Hagrid was beaming down at her, his beetle-black eyes glinting over his bushy, tangled beard. "Alright you lot?" He asked cheerily clapping Marcus on the back and nearly toppling him. "Oh, sorry," he said quickly, picking Marcus up by the back of his robes.

"Eh, it's alright," Marcus said in an ever suffering tone. This familiar incident seemed to cheer Marcus, as he smiled for the first time since the Dementor had entered the carriage.

"FIRS' YEARS 'IS WAY!" Hagrid called out.

Dora prodded Emma forward. Emma glanced back at her, whimpering. Emma didn't get a chance to express her fears any more as Hagrid chuckled and placed his giant hand on her back (which was entirely covered by his hand) and shepherded her along with the other nervous looking first-year students.

"You really believe in sink or swim, don't you?" Ronnie taunted.

Dora scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ronnie shrugged. "You just kinda send her off when it comes to new things, like on the train with Ginny or now with Hagrid."

Dora rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, cuz sending her off with Hagrid or Ginny is _so_ traumatic. How can I live with myself?"

Scott laughed. "Aye, that's kinda like teaching her to swim in a kiddie-pool isn't it?" Scott teased. Everyone laughed, even Ronnie.

They made their way off the platform onto a rough dirt trail which was mostly mud from the rain. Harriet had never been this way before. On her first trip to Hogwarts she was taken across the lake in one of the boats with Hagrid just as Emma was. Last year they had taken Mr Weasley's flying Ford Anglia, which had ended with them being pummelled by the Whomping Willow.

Remembering the latter experience, Harriet had to question the odd way coincidences seemed to work, particularly in the magical world. While being knocked about and battered by the Whomping Willow had not been pleasant, Harriet had to remind herself that had it not happened, the car wouldn't have been around to save her and Kieran from two of Aragog's offspring.

Harriet walked on the grass along the edge of the path, trying not to get mud on her white shoes. They reached a junction of the road that was lined with horseless carriages. Harriet looked up and down the line, seeing students getting into the carriages. Harriet supposed they must have been magically enchanted to pull themselves.

Harriet did have to pause at a very odd sight. It was Luna Lovegood, Ginny's friend, who lived with her equally strange father in the village of Ottery St Catchpole. While Luna herself was odd enough, at the moment she was outdoing herself. While most students were trying to get onto the carriages, Luna was standing at the front of one and talking to thin air. She even raised a hand as if petting an imaginary horse.

"Barking," Ronnie muttered.

Harriet nodded though she grimaced looking down at the mud. There was no way to avoid the mud to get to the carriage.

"Here," said the husky voice of Professor Lupin behind them.

The group turned and watched Professor Lupin take off his robes. His clothes underneath were every bit as shabby as his robes, with big patches on the elbows and knees of his shirt and trousers. He smiled, stepped past them to lay the robes down on the mud between the grass and the carriage.

The girls thanked Professor Lupin, all of them a bit giggly and flushed as they used the robes to get into the carriage without muddying their feet. The boys were all stealing glances at each other. Harriet imagined they were all silently asking themselves 'why didn't I think of that?'

Professor Lupin smiled at the boys as he picked up his robes and shook them out. He pulled out his wand and cleaned the mud and water off them before putting the robes back on.

"Consider that your very first lesson this term, boys," Professor Lupin said before he turned and walked off to the carriage behind theirs.

"Well, maybe he is the Muggle-Studies Professor then?" Scott said as he climbed into the carriage.

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked.

"Because that was sort of a, well, Muggle-ish gesture," he said.

"Well, if he is, I do sort of wish I'd taken Muggle Studies then," Ronnie said, elbowing Marcus in the ribs as he sat down.

"Oi!" he grunted and rolled his eyes. He smiled in spite of himself which reassured Harriet. He had got most of the colour back and seemed much healthier than he had after the Dementor. It appeared to have affected her and Marcus the most. She wondered why.

The carriage began moving forward on its own. Harriet sat back in her seat, starting to feel better. She still felt a little weaker than usual, but the chocolate had indeed done wonders as Professor Lupin had said it would.

Secretly, she hoped he would be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. This was partly because he had a very comforting air about him. It was also because Harriet had not signed up to take Muggle-Studies classes, and she had a strong desire to have him as a teacher.

Harriet leaned forward to look out the window. They were coming up to the magnificent iron gates that barred entrance to the Hogwarts grounds. They were supported by great stone columns with winged boars perched on top of them. These were intimidating enough, but at their base stood two more Dementors.

Harriet closed her eyes. The horribly familiar wave of bitter cold washed over her and her stomach churned. Hermione gave her hand a comforting squeeze and Harriet squeezed back, willing herself not to throw up.

The feeling passed as they got deeper into the grounds. Finally the carriage stopped in front of the front doors to the castle. They climbed out and immediately Harriet heard the unwelcome voice she had been expecting to hear ever since she boarded the Hogwarts Express. What she had not expected was Malfoy to go after someone else.

"Van De Lakk, did you seriously pass out? Was Longbottom telling the truth? Did you really pass out?" Malfoy was grinning as though all his Christmases had come true at once. "I mean I could see _Potter_ fainting, but you?"

"I did not!" Marcus snapped. He took a step towards Malfoy but Scott held him back. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles threateningly.

"He did not, Malfoy!" Ronnie growled, stepping in front of Marcus.

"Awwww, bet you fainted too, didn't you Weasley? I can just picture it; you put on such a tough girl act but the moment a scary old Dementor shows up you just go to pieces like the poor little girl you are," Malfoy taunted. Now Harriet and Hermione grabbed Ronnie's arms to hold her back.

"Speaking of poor," sniggered Pansy Parkinson who stepped around Crabbe and smirked at Ronnie. "I heard your daddy finally got his hands on some gold this summer."

"Pity they couldn't have spent any of it on you or your sister," Pixie said, stepping around from behind Goyle and eyeing Ronnie's clothes once more. "But I guess with so many kids they just stopped caring about the youngest ones."

"Is there a problem here?" Professor Lupin asked. Harriet sighed with relief as he stepped out of the carriage behind them.

Malfoy glowered, looking at Professor Lupin in a calculating way. Harriet wondered if Pansy and Pixie had warned him about Professor Lupin.

"Oh no, _Professor_," Malfoy said. He gave a little smirk to Pixie, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle and they turned to head into the school.

Harriet and her friends smiled appreciatively to Professor Lupin and made their way up into the school. Harriet felt a shiver of happiness and excitement as she passed the threshold of the school. The familiar grand entrance hall with the massive stone staircase filled her with a sense of home that not even the Burrow had ever given her.

"Potter, Granger? I want to see you both."

Harriet and Hermione both stopped and turned, looking up at Professor McGonagall.

"Why?" Harriet asked.

"I would just like a word with you both in my office," Professor McGonagall replied.

"It won't be long will it?" Harriet asked, looking up at Professor McGonagall with pleading eyes. "I really want to see the Sorting. Dora's little sister's being sorted this year."

"Well—well it might—oh, hello Remus," Professor McGonagall said to Professor Lupin.

Professor Lupin smiled. "Wonderful to see you again as well, Professor McGonagall," he said looking around the entrance hall. Harriet saw him beaming with familiarity at the sight and felt her sense of admiration and affection for Professor Lupin growing.

Professor Lupin smiled down at Harriet now. "Well, I tell you, Professor McGonagall. Young Harriet here certainly has a strong constitution about her. Gave her just one piece of chocolate after the encounter and she perked right up again."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "I see. Well then Potter, if you think you are alright, you may join the feast. However, I would still like a word with you, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked hopeful. "Is-is this about—"

"Yes, Miss Granger. Move along then the rest of you," Professor McGonagall said.

The rest of the group hurried into the Great Hall as Hermione grinned excitedly and followed Professor McGonagall.

"Wonder what that was about?" Scott asked.

"No idea," Dora said distracted. "Better get to our tables though, you know," she rolled her eyes, "_traditions_."

The group laughed and made their way to their tables. Harriet could hear Ronnie and Marcus' stomachs growling even over the din of talking students. Her face split into a wider grin when there was a shriek of glee and Rachel came running towards them. Rachel was as tiny as ever and she laughed, hugging Harriet tight. Katy, AJ and Tori came over as well. Over Rachel's shoulder, Harriet could see Erica sitting with Angelina, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet.

They sat, filling everyone in on their summers. The girls all bemoaned being barred from leaving the school over the summer due to the threat of Kinney. As they discussed this subject, Harriet stole glances up and down the table. Once more, the attitudes of normal students towards the American students seemed a little cold. Harriet sighed. Had they read Skeeter's article too?

_Well if they have read it and also believe the new students should be "sent back where they came from," that's their problem_, Harriet thought. They hadn't chosen to be attacked and displaced from their homes. Now Harriet thought about it, she felt an even stronger connection to them, as she now had a deranged psychopath after her too.

Harriet looked up at the staff table and smiled. There was Professor Dumbledore, his white beard looking faintly gold in the glinting candle-light. As she looked at him, she felt the final effects of the encounter with the Dementor wash away. The sense of power that radiated from Professor Dumbledore seemed to fill her with the same sense of calm that petting the unicorns had.

Professor Dumbledore was leaning over, talking with a man who Harriet had never seen before. He was wearing white robes and white headdress held on by a double circlet made of black cord. He was thickly built and tall, with very tan skin and twinkling eyes. His lips were curled into a wide, cheery grin.

He spoke very rapidly and Harriet had a hard time following his lips. She wasn't sure what language he was speaking but she was sure it wasn't English. That did not seem to stump Professor Dumbledore, who was speaking back just as fluently.

Beside the man were three boys, all dressed in the same manner as the new man. Harriet blinked studying them. The oldest boy looked to be no older than Percy. What were other children doing sitting at the staff table?

"Who're they you reckon?" Ronnie asked.

"Dunno," Marcus muttered. "Like the look of the dad though. Looks like a really pleasant bloke, lots of laughs."

"Maybe he's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Parvati Patil suggested.

Professor Dumbledore scanned the room with his eyes as he took a sip from his goblet. Harriet remembered how he had not been happy about her leaving Privet Drive with Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins. She suddenly worried that he still felt that way but that fear abated at once as his piercing blue-eyes found hers and he gave her a tiny wink.

At that moment there was some commotion around the Great Hall and Harriet turned to see the Hogwarts ghosts were floating in through the walls to join them. Kieran smiled and made room, as he always did, for Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost.

"Ah hello young Miss Potter!" Nearly-Headless Nick said beaming. He seemed even happier to see her this year than usual. Harriet supposed it was because she had stopped Tom Riddle last year whose pet basilisk had petrified Nick.

Harriet was about to respond when Professor Flitwick strode to the front of the room, awkwardly carrying the three-legged stool and the ragged Hogwarts' Sorting Hat. Harriet gave the hat an affectionate smile. Even though she still disagreed with the Hat, that she would have done well in Slytherin, the Hat had still turned up for her in her time of need last spring and given her the Sword of Gryffindor which she had used to defeat Riddle and the basilisk.

Hagrid came sidling in through a back door to the Great Hall. He sat next to Professor Lupin and gave Harriet and Erica an excited wave. Harriet and Erica both waved back eagerly.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and the first-years came in. Harriet studied the new group intently. She was looking for Jackson but did not see him. She knew there were going to be more incoming refugees who had not been old enough to attend Hogwarts the year before. She was curious if they were going to be sorted separately as they had the previous year or if all new first-years were going to be sorted at the same time? And if they did sort them all at the same time, would it help get rid of the "others" stigma that existed for the new students?

At the Hufflepuff table, two curvy girls Harriet recognized by face only as being refugees, rose and waved energetically to two of the girls in the group of first years. Harriet took that as a sign that the new American students were to be sorted at the same time as regular Hogwarts students.

Professor Dumbledore rose to greet the incoming first-years. The whole hall fell silent as Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat to speak. In a tradition Harriet approved of, no one in the school ever spoke when Professor Dumbledore was talking.

"Welcome! And welcome back!" Professor Dumbledore said, spreading his arms wide in greeting. "Now I know we are all ready for another wonderful Sorting, but once again I must interrupt very briefly to make a necessary statement. This is a most important and serious matter. As you are all aware, following their unscheduled search of the Hogwarts Express, Hogwarts is currently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban."

Professor Dumbledore paused and Harriet remembered how Dora had said that Professor Dumbledore was not happy about the Dementors guarding the school. "The Dementors are here on Ministry orders, and they are stationed at every entrance to the school grounds. While they are here, I must say in the strongest possible terms that no one is to leave this school without permission. Not even into the grounds. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises, not even invisibility cloaks."

Harriet and her friends all stole glances at each other.

"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand excuses or pleading. Therefore, I implore each and every one of you to give the Dementors no reason to harm you. I place my trust in our wonderful staff, our prefects and our new Head Boy and Girl to ensure that no student meets an unfortunate end at the hands of the Dementors."

A wave of shivers passed over the Great Hall as Professor Dumbledore finished his warning. The one exception was Percy, who beamed and stuck out his chest, showing off his shiny Head Boy badge. Marcus mimed hanging himself as usual.

"That being said, dangerous though they are, the Dementors are here to protect you all from even greater external dangers. I know all of you are aware of the escape of Sirius Black, however, I must even more strongly impress upon you the seriousness of Solomon Kinney. I'm sure you are all equally aware of the attack carried out on the offices of the _Daily Prophet_ yesterday afternoon. And I know for a fact that more than a few of you were in the vicinity and even witnessed the devastation. I must caution all of you to remember that of the people killed in that bombing, one was a mere eleven year old girl who was doing her shopping with her mother, father, and younger brother for her very first trip to Hogwarts."

There was a wave of gasps and mutterings that swept over the Great Hall at this. Harriet felt sick to her stomach.

"It… pains me more than I can possibly say to think that this young girl should be here, waiting to be sorted at this very moment. Her name was Amanda Kruzel. Her father was named George, her mother Estrella, and her younger brother Stewart. It is an announcement no teacher ever wishes to make to their students. Amanda could have been in any one of your houses, be it Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor. In a few minutes time, she could have been seated right next to you."

Professor Dumbledore paused and took a deep breath. As he did, there was not a single sound coming from any of the students or staff. Instead, everyone was looking uncomfortably at the seats next to them. Harriet was surprised to note that even Malfoy was looking troubled.

"The man who carried out the attack, Solomon Kinney, wishes to do similar harm on your fellow students who joined us last year. He is willing to kill anyone to achieve his ends. It is for this reason, as much as the danger of the Dementors, that I must impress upon all of you to remain within the castle except for classes and sanctioned extra-curricular activities. Friendship and watching out for one another will see us through this crisis while the Ministry works tirelessly to bring both Kinney and Black to justice."

Professor Dumbledore finished, looking around the room impressively. "Now, I would like you all to join me in a minute of silence to remember not just Amanda and her family, but all of the others who were killed in that terrible act of destruction yesterday."

Dumbledore clasped his hands together and hung his head, his eyes closed. There was not a single rustle of a cloak or a clink of a glass or plate. It was perhaps the deepest silence Harriet had ever heard. She felt as though she could hear her own heart beating in her chest as she sat in silent contemplation.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore looked up at them and his face broke into a gentle smile. "Thank you. I'm proud to see how seriously our students take such a tragic event and its significance. However, I am not all doom and gloom. On a much happier note; I would like you all to welcome Prince Faysal al-Abdelaziz al-Tahiri, from the nation of Kuwait. Prince Faysal is here with his sons, Adil, Anass, and Fahim, to see the Sorting of his daughter, Basheera, who has transferred here from our sister school of Beauxbatons."

"Ohhhh well that explains that," Lavender hissed in Parvati's ear.

Prince Faysal laughed and waved merrily at the students. He did seem like a very cheerful man, Harriet had to admit, given he was transferring his daughter from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts in this current climate and was still smiling about it.

"Oooo wonder if they're all wizards, too?" Parvati asked. "Anass is a hottie…"

"And a _prince_," Lavender added. Both girls broke down into giggles.

"Prince Faysal and his sons have been given special dispensation by the Ministry to join us today, and I'm sure you'll all join me in giving them a warm Hogwarts welcome."

Professor Dumbledore started clapping and the rest of the students joined in. Prince Faysal waved them all down and Professor Dumbledore bowed to him.

"Special dispensation? Wonder if that means they're Muggles?" Kieran wondered aloud.

"Just as good," Parvati said without hesitation, checking her hair in her spoon.

Harriet rolled her eyes.

Professor Dumbledore sat and gave a nod to Professor Flitwick. Professor Flitwick smiled and placed the Sorting Hat on the stool. Everyone watched with bated breath, waiting for the Sorting Hat to begin its song. Just then, a rip in the hat opened like a mouth and the Hat began to sing.

"_The Hogwarts founders in half were rent_

_when of Godric an enemy Salazar did invent_

_To reverse the tides of doom-ed fate_

_A friend of the snake, the lion must make._

_For in these dark times we must pause_

_and beneath one banner to unite_

_under strong and common cause_

_with truth and knowledge must we fight._

_If you have the heart to find_

_what lies cloud allies from your sight_

_You must open up your mind_

_and seek unlikely heroes kind._

_For you will find consistent aid_

_among those whose reputations fade_

_The opposite can be said of many_

_whose appearance seems uncanny._

_If a lesson is taken from my song_

_be this: It is hard to right a wrong._

_But in doing so you can persevere_

_and bring to all much good cheer._

_Yet one more caution I must speak_

_in favour of the scared and weak:_

_The closer a false friend is kept_

_you will be led to actions you'll regret."_

"That was a different one," Harriet heard Fred say from nearby as awkward applause broke out around the Great Hall. Apparently, Harriet wasn't the only one who wasn't sure how to feel about the Sorting Hat's song.

"Well, the Hat has often been known to give warnings during troubled times," Nearly-Headless Nick said sagely as he clapped.

"So, what was that warning supposed to be about?" Ronnie asked.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore did just remind you all that Sirius Black and Solomon Kinney are on the loose," Nick replied. "And he did mention that only by working together can we stave off their threat. And sometimes, that means looking for allies in very unlikely places."

Harriet nodded, digesting that thought as the applause died down. She watched with excitement as Professor Flitwick pulled up the parchment that had the list of student's names on it and read the first name in his squeaky voice: "Bailey, Conner!"

A small, green eyed, blonde boy stepped forward. As Professor Flitwick wasn't tall enough, Conner had to put the Hat on himself.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat bellowed.

The Ravenclaws burst into applause as Conner beamed and whipped off the Sorting Hat, setting it back precariously on the stool and hurrying off to his new housemates.

After Conner, a tall blonde girl with a heart-shaped face named Robyn Carmichael became a Slytherin. As the previous years, Harriet wondered if she knew the reputation Slytherin house had. She smiled however to see Dora move aside and make room for Robyn.

"Clooney, Britney!"

Another small, square faced girl went forward. One of the returning American girls, Tory Clooney, squealed with delight, watching with crossed fingers. Harriet assumed Britney was her younger sister. "Hufflepuff!"

Tory groaned and pouted, giving a sad wave to Britney who returned it as she made her way to the Hufflepuff table.

A thin boy with brown hair and bright green eyes named Evan Cole became the first Gryffindor. Harriet cheered and pounded her hands on the table with the rest of the house as Evan made his way to them.

A pretty, brown haired girl named Cara Coleman and a small ginger boy named Kyle Conner became Hufflepuffs, followed by two Gryffindors, Dennis Creevey and Darlene Duey. At the name Creevey, Colin had stood on his seat (which only succeeded in making him the same height as Dean Thomas who was sitting next to him) and whistled. Dennis turned out to be an even smaller version of Colin, if such a thing were possible.

Sean Fenn became another Slytherin, when finally the name Harriet had been waiting for was called.

"Flamel, Emma!"

Emma looked as though she was about to faint. She made her way forward on shaking knees and sat on the stool. She nearly dropped the Sorting Hat as she tried to put it on her head. Harriet held her breath, crossing her fingers.

"Gryffindor!"

Harriet's jaw fell open. So did Ronnie's. Harriet stood and whistled loudly as Emma's face went just as red as the Gryffindor banners. Harriet waved to her and made room for Emma to sit between her and Ronnie. Harriet shot a glance across the Great Hall to Dora who was on her feet with her other Slytherin friends, Sae Miyazaki and Courtney Thomas. Dora gave Harriet a warm smile before sitting back down.

One of the girls who the Hufflepuff refugees had waved at, a pretty blond girl named Audrey Ford became a Slytherin, while another brunette girl named Ana Galland became a Gryffindor. The other girl the two had waved to, Katherine Grand, became another Slytherin while Addie Harkins went to Ravenclaw.

"Rough year for Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws," Seamus observed.

However, he was proven slightly wrong when the next two, Sammi Hawker and Mason Irvine both went to Hufflepuff.

"Good year for Slytherin though," Dean said, grudgingly, as Wyatt Jarvis and Melina Juarez became Slytherins.

Jacob Kelvin became another Hufflepuff, while Jack Knight and Jason MacGregor further swelled Slytherin's ranks, and Andrew Marsh was sent on to the Gryffindor table.

"Dean might have a point about the Slytherins," Marcus muttered.

The next name called gave Harriet some pause.

"Martinez, Carmina!"

A pretty girl who looked to be Isabella in miniature made her way forward. Sure enough, Isabella rose and started applauding before Carmina had even sat on the stool. "Hufflepuff!" cried the Sorting Hat.

Harriet smiled as Carmina and Isabella met each other half way, embracing in delight. Harriet watched them head back to the Hufflepuff table. She had thought they were going to sit together but was surprised as Carmina sat with another first-year girl, Sammi Hawker, instead. Isabella meanwhile sat next to Jeremy. Harriet supposed he looked healthier than he had the previous spring, but certainly still not his old, cheery self.

A pair of twin boys, Michael and Patrick Minsel, became Ravenclaws, while a Japanese girl, Jurina Mitsuo, became another Slytherin. Harriet watched as Sae eagerly made room for Jurina and they began chatting very quickly in Japanese. At least Harriet assumed they were speaking in Japanese, given the confused looks on the faces of the other students sitting around them.

David Morgan joined Ravenclaw while another Japanese girl, Shiori Ogamino, joined Hufflepuff. She and Jurina gave each other sad little waves as Shiori sat down. Harriet looked around the house tables and felt especially bad for Shiori, as from what she'd seen, none of the other Japanese girls had been sorted into Hufflepuff the previous years.

She pondered for a moment how all the Japanese girls seemed to know each other. It didn't seem realistic to say they knew each other just because they were Japanese, there had to be some deeper reason. She glanced at Sae and her other friends at the Ravenclaw table, Atsuko and Tomomi. Maybe she would get the chance to ask them about it this year.

"O'Shea, Samantha!"

Harriet's attention was pulled back to the Sorting.

"Ravenclaw!"

The crowd was dwindling now. There only looked to be six or so more students left. As she scanned them, she spotted a girl who looked vaguely familiar.

"Omigosh," Rachel gasped. "It can't be! It _can't_ be!"

"What?" Ronnie asked, but they were distracted as Mike Rhodes was called forward and promptly sent to join them at the Gryffindor table.

Finally, Harriet's suspicions were confirmed. "Sinistra, Nanette!"

The little blond girl made her way to the stool. Professor Sinistra applauded and crossed her fingers. Nanette flushed and sat on the stool, putting the Sorting Hat on. "Gryffindor!"

Rachel shrieked with delight and hopped up and down, beside herself with excitement. She managed to catch Nanette's attention and Nanette looked relieved and made her way over, sitting between Rachel and Tori. Harriet looked back up at the remaining first years and frowned. Where was Nanette's sister, Rosie?

After Nanette, a girl with very curly black hair named Romilda Vane and a boy with equally black hair named Owen Wallace became Gryffindors. A girl with flaming red hair, Kerry Winsbury, became a Ravenclaw.

"Wonder if she's a relative of yours?" Harriet asked Ronnie. Ronnie rolled her eyes.

"Not likely," Emma said in a quiet voice, avoiding everyone's eye, staring at her plate.

"Why do you say that?" Marcus asked.

"She's an American," Emma muttered, fidgeting with her robes. "She said so while we were waiting to be led in."

"Well, that would explain it," Marcus said.

"She's a Muggle-born too," Emma said matter-of-factly, balancing her fork on the rim of her glass.

Harriet raised an eyebrow. "Does that make a difference?" she asked, trying to keep coolness out of her voice.

"No," Emma muttered. "Just means she can't be related to you."

"Did she tell you she was?" Kieran asked curiously.

"No. Just noticed cuz she's got braces. Think they're cool."

Harriet shot an awkward glance around at the others before she returned her attention to the Sorting. There was only one student left now.

"Wyrven, Spencer!" The last, blonde boy stepped forward.

"Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table broke into wild applause. It was considered good luck at Hogwarts to get either the first or final first year during the Sorting. As much as she supported her own house, Harriet secretly hoped that Hufflepuff would do well this year. They almost always came in last place in the Hogwarts House Cup competition.

Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet again and the din died down. "Congratulations everyone! Now, we have two final students to be sorted. You may enter!" Professor Dumbledore called.

The door to the Great Hall opened again and a pretty girl wearing a dappled, light green hijab came in, followed closely by Jackson. Harriet watched with bated breath as the two new students moved to the front of the room. As they did, she caught Scott's eye and he gave her a competitive grin. Ronnie's jaw had dropped at the sight of Jackson.

"You never said he was such a hottie!" she hissed at Harriet. Around them, Marcus, Dean, Kieran and Seamus all glowered.

There was tense whispering as Professor Flitwick bowed to them both and said "Basheera bint Faysal al-Abdelaziz al-Tahiri!"

Basheera smiled at him and pulled down her hijab, sitting on the stool and putting on the Hat. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths at the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables. The Slytherin table alone appeared not that interested in where Basheera was sorted. She supposed as a Muggle-born her chances of joining Slytherin house were slim anyway, but not impossible.

"Gryffindor!" the Hat called after a minute's deliberation.

Harriet joined in the cheering with the other Gryffindors as Basheera joined them, sitting beside AJ, Parvati and Lavender. Parvati and Lavender leaned in at once, and Harriet could only assume they were asking her questions about her brothers. AJ didn't pay any attention. Her eyes were fixed on Jackson, wide with hope. He even caught her eye and gave her a sheepish little smile.

"Lee, Jackson," Professor Flitwick said.

With no hesitation whatsoever, the Sorting Hat declared: "Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table exploded. Jackson looked taken aback at the exuberant greeting but quickly made his way to sit with AJ. Harriet was standing with the rest of the house, applauding. Kieran sat before she did and as he did she caught Scott's eye once more. He was grinning ear to ear in an expression that plainly said: "I told you so."

Harriet rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. She caught sight of some Hufflepuffs who were looking at the cheering Gryffindors mutinously. Harriet supposed they felt a little cheated out of getting the final Sortee.

Everyone was leaning in to speak to Basheera in particular. Both boys and girls were anxious to talk to Basheera, while mostly girls seemed all that interested in Jackson. That did not seem to help put AJ in the best mood.

The door to the Great Hall opened once more and Hermione and Professor McGonagall came in. Hermione was looking quite pleased about something and moved over as quickly as she could to sit with Harriet and the rest.

"You made Gryffindor! Oh congratulations, Emma! Welcome!" Hermione said beaming at Emma. Emma flushed and looked at her lap.

"Thanks," she muttered and Harriet wasn't quite sure, but she could have sworn she saw the corners of Emma's mouth curl into a smile.

"What was that about?" Ronnie asked Hermione.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but she was cut off as Professor Dumbledore rose again.

"Well, and here we are, at the end of another wonderful Sorting," he said. "As we've already got the dark, dangerous and frightening announcements out of the way, let us move on to the lighter news. I am pleased to welcome not one, not two, not three, but _four_ new teachers to our ranks this year as well as a new member of staff. First, I am sorry to say that following her unpleasant experience last spring during the Heir of Slytherin attacks, Madame Pince has resigned her post as chief librarian."

If Professor Dumbledore expected any of the students to feel sorry about this, he was much mistaken. Instead, the Great Hall applauded enthusiastically. However, he did not appear very surprised.

"In her place, I am pleased to announce that Mister Giles Robertson will be taking over her role. He is a most accomplished librarian and I am sure you will find him most knowledgeable and helpful when you begin your studies tomorrow."

There was more enthusiastic applause and Professor Dumbledore smiled. "As for our new teachers, the first is Professor Lupin, who has kindly taken the Defence against the Dark Arts post."

There was scattered applause. Only Harriet and her friends who had been in the compartment with the Dementor applauded with any enthusiasm. Harriet smiled gladly. In spite of his tired, malnourished look, he was more capable than he seemed, and a proper gentleman. There was also the fact she was happy to be sure of having him as a teacher this year.

"Blimey, look at Snape," Ronnie said nodding down the staff table.

Harriet looked and felt her eyebrows knot closer together. While it was widely known that Professor Snape wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, Harriet was taken aback at the look on Professor Snape's face. He was not applauding. Instead he was looking at Professor Lupin with deep hatred etched on every line of his face. Harriet felt a chill. He had never even looked at Gilderoy Lockhart with that much contempt.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat once more. "Second, I am sad to announce that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, has retired in order to spend quality time with his two remaining limbs and thoroughly re-evaluate his knowledge of Magical Creatures in light of some recent revelations. Fortunately, our own Rubeus Hagrid has agreed to take up the position."

Harriet gasped. The ruckus that broke out (at the Gryffindor table in particular) was enormous. Hagrid flushed and buried his face in his handkerchief. Harriet was sure he was crying.

"Well that explains the biting book!" Marcus shouted over the roar.

"Yeah, who else would have thought that one up?" Ronnie asked.

Professor Dumbledore beamed and held up a hand for quiet. "Thirdly, Professor Burbage has also left to take on a bigger role at the Ministry of Magic. In her place, I would like to welcome Professor Spring to our ranks as the new Muggle-Studies professor."

The cheering that broke out wasn't quite as enthusiastic as Hagrid's, but it was more than Professor Lupin's had been. Harriet craned her neck to look at Professor Spring as she stood. Professor Spring looked quite young, perhaps around the same age as Professor Sinistra. She also had blonde hair, but it was done up in a spiky pixie-cut and she had a very round face and twinkling blue eyes. She looked very good natured as she beamed around at everyone.

"And finally, this is something like the end of an era I must admit, but due to certain new circumstances, Professor Binns shall no longer be carrying on as History of Magic professor."

This was followed by a few moments of quiet disbelief, before the Great Hall nearly exploded with noise. Students who had been forced to take years of Professor Binns' droning voice cheered and whooped with joy at this news, Harriet, Ronnie, and Marcus among them. Only Hermione and Scott, the only students in the school who seemed able to resist Binns' sleep-inducing lessons, looked at the very least indifferent to this news.

Dumbledore raised his hand and the din died down almost immediately. "In his stead, we are proud to introduce Professor Stratton who has agreed to come out of retirement to take on these duties." Dumbledore turned looking down the table to his left applauding with the other teachers.

A figure Harriet hadn't noticed before rose to his feet. After he did so, Harriet was quite surprised that she had not noticed him before. Simply put, Professor Stratton was enormous. Not on the same scale as Hagrid, but he looked as though he was over seven feet tall, with wide, powerful shoulders and a barrel-chest that was apparent even through his flowing, black robes. He was black, and his head was completely bald, except for the stark goatee that mostly stood out from the hints of grey in it.

His eyes were bright, and scanned the room imperiously. With a quick glance around, Harriet could see that everyone else, like her, had spotted immediately that this was a professor who was not to be messed with. Harriet looked back up at Professor Stratton, seeing his eyes pan towards the Gryffindor table. They lighted on Harriet, and seemed to hover there for just a moment before passing on, but in that moment, Harriet had seen it, or at least she thought she had.

In the moment they had taken her in, Professor Stratton's eyes seemed to have flashed bright greenish-silver. It was a feral sight, and it made her shiver. The flashing eyes had looked much like the eyes of the Gurt Dog she had seen in Privet Drive with Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins. This intrigued her a little, yet she did not feel afraid of him, merely intimidated at the sheer power that radiated from him. Harriet glanced at Ronnie and knew they were both thinking the same thing. Why wasn't he the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?

Professor Stratton bowed low as the students finally started applauding. Most everyone around the Great Hall was staring at him in awe and so the applause came delayed and slightly rolling in volume. Harriet watched him sit, and was surprised to see him actually smile at Professor Lupin, who returned the smile and applauded even louder for Professor Stratton as though they were old friends.

Harriet supposed they may well have been friends, but even with what Harriet had seen on the train and knowing Lupin was indeed capable, and that in the Wizarding world very many things were not at all what they appeared, she still felt a far more formidable presence from Professor Stratton than Lupin. Looking along the staff table, Harriet was surprised to see that many of the other professors were giving Stratton slight looks of reverence. But as her eyes moved further down, she was once again surprised by the look on Professor Snape's face. He didn't look reverent, or sneering, or angry. No, the look on Professor Snape's face bordered on abject terror.

Dumbledore turned to face them all and silence slowly fell. "Well, now that all necessary announcements are well and taken care of and we have properly greeted our newest additions to staff, it is now finally time to enjoy our excellent feast! Tuck in!"

And with that, all of the tables in the Great Hall groaned as they were filled with food. Harriet was starving, and grabbed everything within reach, though not nearly as much as Ronnie, who had both a longer reach and an appetite that seemed to rival both of her twin older brothers', Fred and George, put together.

"Well, the new History of Magic professor certainly looks rather capable doesn't he?" said Fred as he and George slid closer to the trio, eyeing the new professor somewhat warily, which was a surprising look to see on Fred's face.

"Yeah, and did you see his eyes? Weird yeah?" asked George in a similar undertone.

Harriet nodded.

"His eyes? What about them?" asked Hermione.

"They flashed, like, glowing, like a dog's or something," said Harriet and Fred and George nodded.

"It must have been a trick of the light," said Hermione casually.

"I don't know, Hermione," said Marcus who shrugged. "I mean, I didn't see it but if Harriet, Fred and George did…"

"Human eyes don't glow, Marcus, the retina doesn't reflect enough light like dog and cat eyes do."

"The _what_-ina?" asked Ronnie.

"The _retina_, the back part of your eye. Dog and cat eyes collect light to see at night. Human eyes don't."

"I saw them glow," Emma said as she filled her plate with food. Harriet wasn't sure how she could have, as she hadn't looked at anyone the whole time since she sat, but she was glad of support.

Harriet glanced back up at Professor Stratton. "What if he's not human…?" she asked.

The rest of the group around her blinked with confusion.

"What do you mean? Of course he's human, look at him," said Ronnie, perplexed.

"Well, what if he's…"

"What if he's what?" Kieran asked. He sounded more curious than doubting.

"Never mind," Harriet said and started eating. The others looked at her, a little confused, but started eating too.

Harriet was curious, but didn't want to speak her mind just yet. Her suspicion about the possible connection between the Gurt Dog in Privet Drive with its glowing eyes and the glowing eyes of Professor Stratton was hard to ignore.

Harriet distracted herself by turning her attention elsewhere at the Gryffindor table. Hermione had joined in questioning Basheera.

"So, what year are you, Basheera?" Hermione asked leaning over Parvati.

"I shall be a third year," Basheera answered.

"Oh cool, you'll be in our dorm then," Harriet chimed in. Basheera smiled and nodded.

"Heh, it'll be getting crowded," Ronnie said drawing a dirty look from Hermione.

"That's not the point, Ronnie," Hermione snapped but Basheera laughed.

"How many will be in our dormitory?" She asked.

"Well, you, me, Lav, Ronnie, Harriet, Hermione, AJ, Tori, and Rachel," Parvati said.

Basheera laughed even louder. "That is many, isn't it?" she said smiling. "I am sure we will all be able to fit. The school is magic after all, is it not?"

Hermione smiled. "That's very true," she said.

Harriet was pleased to see that Basheera seemed to take much of her sense of humour from her father. She didn't frown once from what Harriet saw, and she seemed very eager to answer questions about herself and had many of her own. Harriet was pleasantly surprised to see that she and Ginny appeared to be hitting it off very well.

The same could not quite be said for Jackson. He seemed to be trying to dodge most questions, while AJ seemed to be doing her part to answer them for him. Harriet sighed. She wanted Jackson to open up a little, but then she reminded herself that he was rumoured to have killed someone, and so there were many things he would probably rather keep to himself. Harriet was glad to see that AJ had befriended Jackson and was doing her best to stick up for him.

When the feast finished, Professor Dumbledore rose once more to tell them all it was time for bed. Harriet and her friends did not move to the doors, however. Instead, they made straight for the staff table to talk to Hagrid.

"Congratulations!" Hermione squealed with delight.

"All down ter you lot," Hagrid said, dabbing his eyes with his handkerchief once more. "Can' believe it… I mean, me a teacher? Dumbledore came straight down ter me hut after Professor Kettleburn called it quits. Never thought nothin' like this could ever happen ter me."

"Alright you all, off to bed with you, you may speak to Professor Hagrid during your lessons tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said shooing them off. However, in spite of her stern tone, Harriet couldn't help but notice a warm twinkle in her eye and a smile in the corners of her mouth.

They made their way up with the rest of the students to Gryffindor tower. After so many eventful days in a row Harriet was starting to feel very tired. Hermione continued to bombard Basheera with questions but as interested as Harriet was, she just couldn't focus. She didn't even hear Percy when he announced what the new password was to gain entrance to the tower. This did not concern her, as she knew she would hear it again tomorrow.

While most students stayed up in the common room to talk, Harriet made straight for her dormitory. Sure enough, as she stepped inside, the room had expanded yet again to make room for another bed. Her trunk was waiting for her and she quickly changed into her pyjamas. She closed the curtains, turned off her oil lamp, and climbed under the covers.

The last fleeting thought to go through Harriet's mind as she closed her eyes was _I'm home_. She took yawned once more, clutched her comforter tighter, and fell asleep.


	9. Pernicious Prophecies

Chapter 9

Pernicious Prophecies

"It is a curious twist that the coming events of our lives may at once be unavoidable, while at the same time are entirely unknowable."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

Harriet should have known that the start to her third year as a Hogwarts student would not go as smoothly as she hoped. The trouble began at around two in the morning, when a cacophony of hissing, spitting, shouting, and squeaking roused the entire dormitory. The source of the commotion was soon revealed to be Crookshanks who had made a renewed attack on Scabbers while everyone slept.

In the end, a disgruntled Hermione was forced to put Crookshanks outside the dormitory for the rest of the night. Even then, sleep was not to be had. Crookshanks yowled outside the door for a while, crying to be let back in until Ginny took pity on them all and took Crookshanks.

They had only slept perhaps another hour when the next major disturbance occurred. A series of ear-splitting bangs shook the whole of Gryffindor tower. The noises then triggered an apparent relapse in some of the American students' night-terror attacks, including Rachel.

And so Harriet found herself spending her very first morning helping AJ and Tori calm Rachel down. They finally could stop when Rachel woke up and realized what had happened. Her face went red with shame and she rolled over, hugging her pillow tight. The other girls all looked at each other awkwardly and decided to leave Rachel alone and followed the sounds of voices down the stairs to the common room.

The entirety of the scene was a bit staggering. Confused and disgruntled Gryffindors were crowded around the foot of the boys' staircase. Kieran and Marcus were sitting on the bottom step and Kieran was attempting to stop Marcus' eyebrow from bleeding. Marcus meanwhile kept asking if Jackson was okay. Nearby, Dean and Seamus were looking venomous and glaring at Jackson who was standing in a corner staring at the floor. Harriet couldn't tell if the look on his face was shame or anger.

It did not take much detective work to figure out what had happened. Percy was bellowing at Jackson at the top of his voice. However, the reason for Percy yelling was not just anger. He also had to yell to be heard over AJ who was yelling at Percy in turn for yelling at Jackson.

From what Harriet was hearing, Jackson had experienced a night-terror of his own. However, instead of just screaming, it seemed Jackson had grabbed his wand and fired off a spell into the middle of the room which bounced around a few times before exploding. One of the objects it bounced off of was Marcus' head.

"SO RECKLESS! WHO KEEPS THEIR WAND UNDER THEIR PILLOW THESE DAYS?!"

"Where's Neville?" Hermione asked looking around. Harriet glanced around and realized she was right; Neville was nowhere to be seen.

"COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE!"

"Apparently he's still trapped in his bed," Parvati said over Percy's yells, sounding slightly amused. "His bed collapsed on top of him when the spell exploded. I guess a couple fourth year boys are trying to free him—"

"HE COULDN'T HELP IT! NONE OF THEM CAN WHEN IT HAPPENS!"

The situation was only diffused by the arrival of Professor McGonagall. "What on earth happened here? Weasley, report!" Professor McGonagall snapped.

Percy scowled. "It was Lee, Professor! He blew up the third-year boys' dormitory, nearly took out Van De Lakk's eye and Longbottom's still trapped in his bed!"

Professor McGonagall's beady-eyes swept back and forth between Percy and Jackson. "What happened, Lee?"

Jackson hung his head, looking even more ashamed of himself. Somehow, Harriet felt he wasn't ashamed about being in trouble. He seemed more like he was ashamed it had happened at all. Percy scowled at Professor McGonagall behind her back, clearly upset that his word was not being accepted outright.

"I… had a… nightmare or something and I guess I just… sorry…" he mumbled.

Professor McGonagall looked at him for a moment. As always, Harriet wasn't sure whether Professor McGonagall was going to be understanding, or begin shouting at him. She had the uncanny ability to make it look as though anyone she turned her gaze upon was in trouble.

"I see. Well, Lee, maybe in the future you can sleep with your wand a bit further away from your bed to prevent this from happening again?"

"Y-yes, Professor," Jackson muttered, not meeting her eyes.

"Now then, you boys get back upstairs to assist Longbottom and clean up the mess. Van De Lakk, let's get you to the hospital wing to get that cut cleaned and closed."

"Yes, Professor," Marcus said and got to his feet.

Professor McGonagall turned and led Marcus from the room while Dean and Seamus looked even angrier now that they had to help clean up a mess they had not created. Percy swooped about, shooing everyone back to their dormitories.

"Nothing to see, move along now! You can all still get another couple hours of sleep before classes begin."

"Big puffed-up grouse," AJ grumbled as she and the rest of the girls made their way up the stairs. "Who does he think he is? Yelling at Jackson like that. So he had an attack? He should be used to that by now. Now that he's all mister big-tough Head Boy he's gotten even worse."

AJ didn't bother keeping her thoughts to herself despite Ronnie's presence, although Harriet was sure that AJ was too mad to even realize Ronnie was there. However, Ronnie seemed to share AJ's sentiments.

"You're telling me?" Ronnie growled. "I had to put up with him _all summer_."

As they re-entered their dormitory, Harriet saw that Rachel had drawn her bed curtains shut. Harriet was sure Rachel was sulking. She grimaced as she looked at the closed curtains. She wanted to comfort Rachel again, but supposed it would only make things worse to keep bringing it up. However, Lavender broke Harriet's attention off Rachel.

"Wait… where's Basheera?"

Harriet looked around and realized she was right; Basheera was nowhere to be seen. By the looks of it, she had been left sometime before the mayhem started. She had even made her bed.

"You know, she wasn't in here when…" Tori started to say but broke off, glancing at Rachel's bed, "when the explosion happened."

"She's probably praying," Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone as she climbed back into bed.

"Prayin'?" AJ asked. "Why's she gotta go somewheres else for that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's Muslim. It's part of their faith. They pray five times a day, and they have a ritual they go through before and during each prayer."

"Ohhhhh," AJ said thoughtfully. "Back home we just went once ev'ry Sunday."

"How come you don't anymore?" Lavender asked.

AJ gave her a quizzical look. "Ya'll see many churches 'round here?"

"Oh, yeah, good point," Lavender said rubbing her chin.

"B'sides, it was mostly Dad who wanted us tah go," AJ went on, her voice going a bit quieter. "'Spect our preacher woulda called in an exercism if he'da known what Mom and the rest of us kids were."

"Is it that bad?" Parvati asked.

AJ shrugged. "Not all places. Like two uh the girls who wound up in Hufflepuff, Jenny Thomas and Haley Burns, their church was raisin' them up to be healers. They didn't really _know_ it came from magic, but they'da probably saw it as a divine gift anyway. Church is kinda… weird… back home."

Harriet pondered this. No one spoke for a while after that. Harriet did not fall asleep again. Instead she simply lay on her back until finally it was time to head down to breakfast. However, even this was not the end of their awkward moments. They returned to the common room and found Jackson in trouble with Percy once again.

"You are completely out of uniform, Lee!"

"Oh what now?!" AJ growled as they left the stairs. Sure enough, Jackson was wearing entirely normal clothes. Well, almost normal. Mostly, he looked like he had just walked out of—

"Oy, get a load of the Milkybar kid," Dean Thomas taunted from the fireplace where he had been sitting and talking with Seamus. By his tone, the comment was clearly meant to wound, however, it did not have quite the effect he had hoped for.

"Milky-what now?" Jackson asked as he inspected his jeans, white shirt, leather vest and cowboy boots.

Jackson, being American, clearly had no idea who the Milkybar Kid was, and neither did most of the other American students. Then there were the majority of the Gryffindor students who came from at least Half-Blood families, and so did not grow up with exposure to Muggle products and advertising.

Harriet, having grown up around Dudley, knew exactly what Milkybars were and who the Milkybar kid was, but she didn't find the comparison funny at all. And so all Dean got out of the taunt was a few titters here and there and a swat up the back of the head from the fifth year (now sixth year) girl Colin Creevey had taken a fancy too the previous year. Dean turned to glare and protest but after seeing how much taller than him she was, he balked and simply stared at the floor. Colin smirked at him from nearby.

"It doesn't matter," Percy interjected, drawing Harriet's attention back to the scene. "You are out of uniform, Lee. Get back upstairs and change at once."

"But I thought they said we only had to wear it for classes?" Lee replied. "Aren't we just going to breakfast now?"

"Yes, and thereafter you go straight to your classes," Percy snapped and pointed. "Now change at once or it's a detention!"

"You're seriously going to give a detention to the new kid just because he misinterpreted something?" came Marcus' surly voice from the portrait hole.

The room went quiet. Everyone remembered all too well the constant battles between Percy and Marcus the previous year. Apparently, that trend was going to continue given the look of indignation on Marcus' face as he stomped over. He still had a small white bandage covering half his right eyebrow.

"Come on Perce, you've made it to Head Boy, do you really need to milk your power around here even more?" Marcus demanded crossing his arms.

"Th-that's-that's completely out of order, Van De Lakk!" Percy stammered, clearly caught off guard by that particular attack.

"Besides, if anyone here should be mad at him it's probably me—well—and Neville," Marcus said giving a nod in Neville's direction "but neither of us blame him. And then after you spent all last year getting in the way of people from other houses mingling all the while you were sneaking around—"

"That's detention!" Percy said, cutting Marcus off with an air of finality. "And a report to Professor McGonagall recommending taking twenty points from Gryffindor!"

Marcus glowered, as did a great many of the other students. Jackson was giving Marcus a look that was at once apologetic, and grateful. Harriet glanced around the room. Students were starting to move awkwardly toward the portrait hole. Others were giving Percy dirty looks as he turned and stormed off through the portrait hole.

Ronnie put a comforting hand on Marcus' shoulder and at first he looked inclined to shrug it off, but he didn't.

"Let's just go down to breakfast," Hermione suggested, trying to sound casual.

"You lot go, I'm gonna check on Jackson," Marcus said and stomped off up the stairs to the boys dormitory.

Ronnie grimaced but Harriet hooked an arm in hers and together, she, Hermione, Ronnie and Kieran made their way down to breakfast. No one spoke the whole way. As they entered the Great Hall the first thing they saw was Pansy Parkinson and Pixie Fanfarró doing ridiculous impressions of fainting while the Slytherins surrounding them all burst out laughing.

"Just ignore them," Hermione said in a lofty tone as they made their way to the Gryffindor Table.

"Beware Potter, beware!" Pixie shouted after her.

"The Dementors are coming! Coming for youuuuuuuu!" Pansy shrieked.

"Ignore them ignore them ignore them," Hermione continued to hiss. As they reached the Gryffindor table Harriet saw Basheera was already there, sitting with Scott and Dora who had come over from their tables. Nearby Harriet saw Fred and George who were huddled in deep conversation with Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Erica Quoy.

They steered towards Basheera, Scott and Dora who smiled in greeting.

"Good morning," Basheera said as they sat down around her.

"Morning," Kieran said cheerfully.

"Well you missed an interesting morning," Ronnie said rolling her eyes.

Dora glanced at the group of whispering fifth years. "So we heard…"

"What were they teasing you about?" Basheera asked Harriet, nodding towards the Slytherin table.

Harriet blushed. "Oh, it's nothing, just those Dementor things searched the train yesterday and I sort of… well…"

"Oh, that is not very nice…" Basheera said looking genuinely sympathetic.

"No, it's not," Angelina growled, having overheard them. "Those two little cows weren't all that brave about the search either, they came running into our compartment," she went on nodding towards the other fifth-years.

"That little runt Malfoy was with them too," George added.

"Yeah, just about wet himself," Fred agreed.

"Didn't feel too great myself," George said. "Ruddy terrible, those Dementors."

"They sort of freeze you from the inside out, don't they?" said Fred.

"You know, you all keep telling me about how great the Hogwarts Express is and how I'm missing out on all the fun but I don't know, this isn't really helping your case in my mind," Erica said, her the corners of her mouth twitching as the other fifth years rolled their eyes.

"Still, we'll wipe those smiles off their faces come the first Quidditch match," Fred said, grinning hungrily.

Harriet smiled. The first match of every year was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, and Harriet had never lost to the Slytherins yet.

"So, were you really praying?" Ronnie asked bluntly, changing the subject.

Basheera seemed taken aback but not offended. Hermione closed her eyes and Dora groaned loudly.

"I… I was… yes…" Basheera said recovering.

"Sorry just kinda new to me, never heard of that before so—"

"Oh, it is fine," Basheera said, smiling again. "Yes, I know it is not common in our world for people to hold on to their old beliefs. But I do not seem them as conflicting."

Harriet nodded but did not get time to digest this information as more outbursts from the Slytherin table drew everyone's attention.

"Good lord, Van de Lakk, what the devil happened to you? So hope you don't get a scar from that! I don't think Hogwarts is big enough for two puffed-up, scar-headed Gryffindors, do you?" Draco Malfoy asked looking around at his surrounding gang who all broke out laughing.

Harriet looked at the door. Marcus, Jackson, AJ, Rachel and Tori had arrived. Marcus glared and his hands curled into fists. Jackson actually seemed to reach for his wand but stopped when another voice shouted from the Gryffindor table.

It was Fred. "Puffed up?" he called getting to his feet so Malfoy could see him. "Seems to me someone who stopped You-Know-Who and has won every Quidditch match she's played in has earned the right to think a little highly of themselves. What about you then? Last I checked you were a runty little ferret whose only claim to fame is your ancestors' money, just like your dad, and his dad, and so on—"

"ENOUGH!" shouted Professor McGonagall who was on her feet, glaring back and forth between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. "I will not have the Great Hall become the site of another free-for-all! Sit down and eat your food, everyone!"

The Great Hall suddenly went very quiet. Marcus and the rest awkwardly made their way to the Gryffindor table and sat. As the sound of clinking plates and soft muttering resumed Dora leaned over towards Fred.

"Nice one… wish I'd thought of that," she said under her breath.

Fred gave her a smile then winked at Harriet. "Well someone had to say it for everyone to hear, some of us are just quicker than others."

Dora rolled her eyes.

"How's your eyebrow?" Ronnie asked Marcus.

"Oh, yeah, it's fine," Marcus said. "Might be a mark, but there was one there anyway. No harm done. Just might be a bit bigger now is all."

"Well I for one," said a new voice Harriet didn't recognize right away, "think he was very brave standing up to the _Head Boy_ like that."

Harriet turned to see it was Nanette Sinistra who had just walked up to the table with her fellow first-year girls. Emma was at the back of the group, but gave a rare smile as she saw Dora and quickly moved to sit with her sister and the two began chatting rapidly in French. Harriet assumed Dora was asking Emma about her first night.

"Oh, thank's Nanette," Marcus said, blushing a little as Nanette beamed down at him.

"You're welcome. I just think you did the House proud standing up against injustice like that."

Marcus's face went even redder. Harriet noted Ronnie's was getting redder as well, but her expression was much different than Marcus'. Nanette simply smiled and moved on with her other new friends to sit further down the table.

George cleared his throat and leaned over Fred, holding out a stack of parchment to them. "Oh, here you lot are, your new time-tables."

Marcus took them and passed them around.

"Oh good, we'll have some new subjects today," Hermione said excitedly. "Ooh Arithmancy first thing, wonderful."

"What? No it isn't. We have Divination first, don't we?" Ronnie asked studying her timetable carefully.

"Oh, y-you're right, silly me," Hermione said and quickly stuffed her timetable into her bag.

Ronnie raised an eyebrow in bemusement while Scott and Dora both gave Hermione very shrewd looks. Harriet felt as confused as Ronnie looked but diverted her attention to Hagrid who had just entered the Great Hall and made his way to the staff table, passing them on the way.

"All righ' you lot?" He asked beaming as he paused. "Yer gonna be in mah first ever lesson this afternoon, right after lunch! Not half excited I don't mind tellin' yeh, had something pretty good planned but now got summut even better for you all. Right Lee?" Hagrid asked, giving Jackson a knowing wink.

Jackson flushed and swallowed but nodded.

Hagrid chuckled. "Hope it goes alright… me a teacher… can you believe it?" Hagrid turned and continued on to the staff table.

Everyone turned to look at Jackson, but he was clearly ignoring them all.

"I take it you're not going to fill us in on what the "better" plan is?" Dora asked.

"Nope," Jackson replied curtly taking a bite of eggs.

AJ grinned to herself. Harriet fished around for something else to ask. "So, um, how do you like Hogwarts so far?"

"Oh, it's fine," Jackson said. "You know, outside the obvious."

He nodded towards Percy who was currently at the Ravenclaw table with his girlfriend, Penelope.

"Try living with him," Ronnie grumbled.

Jackson laughed. "Touché!"

Harriet smiled. She felt good seeing him laugh and smile, it was good to know he could after all he'd been through.

"So, is it true," Dora asked. "You don't remember the attack at all?"

Jackson's smile faltered and AJ gave Dora a burning look.

"Come on, can't ya'll just leave him alone about that?" AJ asked but Jackson shrugged.

"I… I remember bits and pieces of it… I mean… I remember the Secessionists taking over the town, I remember the Unionists marching in, but after that, nothing."

"Nothing?" Rachel asked.

Jackson shook his head. "Nothing… not till I sort of woke up in the middle of nowhere and that's when Epeius' herd found me."

"You know, I'm curious about that. Of all the names you could have given him, what made you pick Epeius?" Scott asked.

Jackson blinked at him as though he didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"Well it's just such a formal, different name, isn't it?"

Jackson shrugged. "No idea, I didn't name him."

"Then who did?" Hermione asked.

Jackson looked down at the table and started shovelling bacon on to his place. "You'd have to ask him."

Harriet and her friends all looked at each other. Confusion was written over everyone's face. Ronnie looked at Jackson as though she wanted to press the subject but the dangerous look on AJ's face seemed to quell her interest.

"So Rachel," Hermione asked, changing the subject. "I know it's a touchy subject too, but have you heard from your brothers at all this summer?"

To their surprise, Rachel actually smiled. "Oh yeah, I just got letters from both of them."

Harriet noted how Rachel said "both" instead of "all." The youngest of Rachel's brothers, Sean, was fighting for the Secessionists, and Rachel had only ever mentioned him once the previous year when she had come to Harriet for help in pre-emptively fighting off a panic attack in the middle of the night.

"How are they?" Kieran asked.

"Aaron's okay. It sounds like the war's starting to wear on him. His commanding officer was killed over the summer so he's been commanding his company ever since even though he's only a lieutenant. He didn't seem like himself..." Rachel trailed off. "Crazy to think about, like, my brother, in command of a whole company, he's only twenty. He said they might promote him soon to captain even."

Marcus whistled. Rachel gave another little smile.

"Blaine's okay too. He's a non-combatant though, like I think he's a mail-clerk. He keeps talking about feeling useless, but I don't know… I feel worried enough with one brother in harm's way, let alone two…"

An awkward silence followed. Harriet didn't know what to say and focused on her breakfast. However, she did happen to catch a glimpse of Jackson. His face was taught, his hands clenched on his fork and knife and his eyes were boring into Rachel though she didn't notice, having turned to talk to Erica. It wasn't a threatening look; it didn't even look like his eyes were in focus.

"Well better eat up, those of us heading to Divination got a long way to go, it's all the way at the top of North Tower," Ronnie said, distracting Harriet.

"Good luck, let us know how it goes," Kieran said, smiling.

Of her main group of friends, only Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione had signed up for Divination, and so it was only those three who began making their way across the castle towards North Tower. Fortunately they were joined by Rachel and Tori who had also signed up for Divination. As Rachel and Tori both knew the way to North Tower, they made good time. However, it still was quite the trek, up winding staircases and down long corridors that Harriet had never taken before.

"You two sure there isn't a shortcut?" Harriet asked, breathing heavily.

"Yes, we're sure," Tori said smiling back at her.

"We told you, we know the way to the tower by heart—" Rachel started to say but broke off and suddenly curtsied at a portrait and began speaking in a refined, fluttery voice. "Oh, good morning to you, Sir Cadogan! How goes the defence of the realm?"

Harriet blinked and looked at the portrait Rachel had curtsied to. In the portrait was a squat, diminutive knight in a full suit of armour glaring at a dapple-grey pony that was grazing lazily. There were bits of grass and sod stuck to the knight's armour in odd places, and Harriet was sure he had just fallen off the horse. He turned at the sound of Rachel's voice and jumped in surprise but his face broke into a wide grin and he bowed.

"Good morning to you my dear gentle ladies! And how are you Lady Kane and Lady Hoffman, and who might I enquire are your charming friends?"

Rachel barely held back a giggle as she gestured to Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione. "This, my brave knight, is Lady Potter, Lady Weasley, and Lady Granger."

"Weasley!" Sir Cadogan gasped and actually got down on one knee as he bowed to Ronnie. "A proud family you come from my dear! A proud family indeed! My most dearest friend is from your noble house!"

"Oh, i-is he?" Ronnie asked, taken aback.

"Yes indeed, my dear young lady, and I dare say you do your noble line proudly," Sir Cadogan said. "The loveliness of your flaming red hair speaks openly of the fire in your soul."

Ronnie's face went red as her hair. Sir Cadogan smiled around at them all. "Now my dear ladies, how may I be of service to you?"

"Well it is ever so good we have run into you, dear knight," Rachel said, still in her fluttery voice. "We are on our way to the North Tower—"

"Say no more my dear young maiden! I shall escort you forthwith! Onwards!" Sir Cadogan shouted and drew his sword, which was too long for him and nearly toppled him over. He then tried and failed to mount his pony and instead cried out: "Oh foot then my gentle ladies! ON! ON!"

And before anyone could say anything more he turned and ran off into the neighbouring portrait.

Harriet blinked. "What just—?"

"Come on!" Rachel said excitedly and started running off after Sir Cadogan.

Tori smiled and ran off too. Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all looked at each other before they started running too.

"Is it just me or did that bloke just call me pretty?" Ronnie asked.

"Yeah, that's how I interpreted it," Rachel replied.

Ronnie beamed and they kept going. Harriet looked around at the other girls as they ran. Rachel didn't look the least bit tired as she led the group. Ronnie looked only slightly more winded than Rachel did, but not by much. Tori looked as winded as Harriet felt, but to Harriet's surprise, despite carrying twice as many books Hermione also seemed to be handling the run well. Harriet again remembered noticing how Hermione had seemed so much more fit after this past summer and vowed to remember to ask her about it.

Finally, they stopped halfway up a long spiral staircase leading to the top of what they knew to be North Tower. They stopped here as apparently there were no further portraits for Sir Cadogan to lead them through. They thanked him, all doing their best to act ladylike and grateful before Sir Cadogan bowed and clanked back off to his portrait.

"You know? Didn't you two already know the way?" Ronnie asked Tori and Rachel. "Was any of that necessary?"

"Not really, but it was fun," Rachel replied, giggling.

"You kinda have to act like that around Sir Cadogan anyway," Tori said, catching her breath as they continued up the stairs. "He's sort of really into that whole being a knight thing."

They finally reached the top landing. There was a good portion of the class there already. By the looks of it, most of Gryffindor house's third years had signed up for it. Harriet remembered Scott teasing her over the summer, telling her most people took Divination because it was "easy." Harriet didn't know, she had only picked it because Ronnie had picked it.

However, it became very clear very quickly that not all picked it because it was easy. Parvati and Lavender looked beside themselves with excitement for the class to start.

"Just imagine all the things we're going to learn!"

"Omigosh, the future, we're going to learn how to see the future!"

"I know!"

Dean, Seamus and Neville were looking at Parvati and Lavender with dumbstruck faces.

"So… where's the classroom?" Hermione asked, looking around.

Rachel gave a superior smirk, the same kind Ronnie so often gave, and pointed at the ceiling. Harriet, Hermione and Ronnie all looked up. There was a trap-door in the ceiling with a small brass plaque that read: Sybill Trelawney, Divination Teacher.

"So… how do we get in?" Seamus asked.

The moment he asked, the trap-door swung open and a thin, silver ladder lowered to the floor.

"After you," Dean said prodding Seamus in the back.

Seamus rolled his eyes but climbed the ladder. Everyone followed one-by-one until finally Harriet made it up into the room. It was by far the strangest classroom she had ever been in; in fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all. It looked like someone had tried to set up a tea-shop inside their attic. It was filled with almost two dozen small, circular tables crammed in between plump, chintz armchairs and poufs. The curtains were closed over the windows and the lamps hanging from the ceiling were draped in red scarves which gave the room a reddish hue.

Furthermore, it was quite warm, sweat already starting to form on Neville's forehead as the class began to sit down. There was a blazing fire going in the fireplace that was heating a large copper kettle, the steam from which smelled perfumed. There was a cupboard full of pink and blue teacups and shelves ran all along the circular walls were full of odd items such as feathers, candles, playing cards, ragged old playing card packs, dozens of silvery crystal balls and countless teapots.

"Welcome," a soft, misty voice said, causing Harriet to jump as she went to sit down in one of the arm chairs.

The class turned as one to see Professor Trelawney step into the middle of the room, finally illuminated by the light of the fire and the hanging, shrouded lamps. She was very thin, wearing long, green robes and a spangled shawl. She wore so many necklaces Harriet was surprised she could support the weight, and she had large glasses which made her eyes appear twice their natural size.

"How nice to see you all in the physical world at last," Professor Trelawney said.

Harriet was still too taken aback to respond. She had never seen this woman before, not even at the meeting last spring when Professor McGonagall had called all the staff to discuss the revelation that Slytherin's Monster was a basilisk. This puzzled Harriet. If Professor Trelawney was the divination teacher, shouldn't she have seen the attacks coming and known what the monster was already and who the attack was?

"Welcome to Divination," Professor Trelawney continued, having taken a seat of her own in the largest, winged armchair next to the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. I doubt many, if any, of you have seen me before. It is very rare that I descend into the raucousness of the main school, the chaotic nature clouds my inner-eye, you see?"

Harriet and Ronnie looked at each other. Hermione was looking at Professor Trelawney with a dumbstruck expression.

"Now, perhaps it would be best to give you all a short introduction into the nature of this course. Many people take this class believing it to be 'easy.' This could not be farther from the truth. Indeed, quite the opposite, divination is by far the most difficult branch of all the magical arts."

Harriet swallowed. Hermione was now chewing her lip in thought as she watched Professor Trelawney.

"I would also point out, that if you do not possess the natural Sight, the essence and aura necessary to be a Seer, there is very little I can teach you. This is not a class one can learn by simply burying their nose in a book."

At this, the entire class all swivelled in their seats to look at Hermione. Hermione was now wide-eyed, looking as though Professor Trelawney had just slapped her.

"You dear?" Professor Trelawney said pointing at Neville who squeaked in shock and nearly fell off his pouf. "How is your grandmother?"

"Uh, she's fine, I think," Neville replied. "Do you know her?"

"No, but I wouldn't be so sure that she is so well, my dear. You should send her a letter as soon as you can," Professor Trelawney said. Neville whimpered.

"We will simply be working on the basics this year. This is, what one might call, the make-or-break, year, where we separate the gifted from the mundane. Today we will begin with reading tea-leaves, but then will move on to palmistry—oh and dear?" Professor Trelawney shot at Parvati, "beware those with sandy-hair."

Parvati shot a nervous look at Seamus Finnigan and edged away from him slightly. Seamus glowered.

"After palmistry, we shall work on fire omens before proceeding to crystal balls. That may be delayed however as there will be a rash of flu in February which will cause me to lose my voice."

"But there's always a rash of flu right after the holidays," Hermione hissed just loud enough for Harriet and Ronnie to hear her.

Harriet blinked and realized that was true. She turned her attention back to Professor Trelawney.

"And finally, around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

The class went dead silent at this announcement. Professor Trelawney did not seem to notice as she turned on Lavender who flinched.

"I wonder dear, could you pass me that largest silver teapot just there over your head?"

Lavender let out a sigh of relief before turning to fetch the teapot off the shelf on the wall behind her.

"Thank you dear. Oh, and that thing you're dreading? It will happen on Friday the 15th of October."

Lavender whimpered.

"Now, if you could all please pair up and each take a teacup from the shelf, come to me and I will fill them from my teapot. Sit at your tables and drink the tea until only the dregs remain. Once the tea has been drunk, swill the dregs around three times anti-clockwise with the left hand, place upside down on the saucer and allow the rest of the tea to drain from the cup and the dregs. Once that is completed, turn your teacup right-way up again, and hand it to your partner to interpret. The guide to interpreting the patterns can be found on pages five and six of _Unfogging the Future_. I shall move amongst you assisting as needed."

The class rose but she quickly caught Neville by the arm. "Oh, my dear, after you've broken your first cup, would you please be sure to select another blue-patterned one? I'm rather attached to the pink."

Professor Trelawney's prediction about Neville's first tea-cup came true within a minute. She reminded him to pick a blue one as finally Harriet and Ronnie made it back to their seats and sat. Hermione, meanwhile, went to join Neville. The two girls drank the piping hot tea as fast as they could, eager to start. They followed the rest of Professor Trelawney's instructions and finally Harriet had a go at interpreting Ronnie's tea leaves.

"Well… first thing I'm seeing is—"

"You mean besides loads of soggy brown stuff?" Dean whispered. Harriet didn't really want to, having never quite got on with Dean, but she sniggered nonetheless.

"Broaden your minds, my dears! Allow your eyes to see past the mundane and the physical!"

Harriet gave her head a shake. The heat and the heavy perfume had made her drowsy.

"Okay, let's see… you've got a sort of… wonky… cross… I think… ummmmm," she consulted the textbook. "Which means 'trials and suffering,' well that's no fun."

"Yeah not really," Ronnie muttered. "Anything else?"

"Well… this one looks kind of like the sun," Harriet said. "Which means… 'great happiness,' so… I guess you're going to suffer but in the end you'll be very happy… unless it means you're going to be happy but then suffer… or… be happy _and_ suffer…"

"Think your inner-eye needs to look in Miss Momori's eye-glass maker too," Ronnie teased and Harriet giggled.

"Okay, do mine now!" Harriet said, excitedly.

"Okay," Ronnie said studying closely. "Well… I see a blob that, to me anyway, looks like a bowler hat. Maybe you'll work for the Ministry or something… I don't know, there's no bowler hat in the book."

Ronnie twisted the cup. "But here it looks like an acorn…"

"Great, I'm a squirrel," Harriet muttered making Ronnie snort.

"Shut up, shut up," Ronnie hissed glancing at Professor Trelawney. "No, the book has an acorn, it means 'a windfall, unexpected gold,' well that's handy."

"Oooo maybe it'll be enough for a Firebolt?" Harriet grinned.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. "And now there's this thing here… it sort of looks like an animal… it… it kind of looks like a dog—"

"Let me see that cup my dear," Professor Trelawney asked.

Harriet and Ronnie both jumped realizing Professor Trelawney was standing over them, holding out a hand to Ronnie. The whole class went very quiet and watched on with interest as Professor Trelawney inspected Harriet's cup.

"The falcon… you have a deadly enemy it seems, my dear."

"Well everyone knows that," Hermione hissed. Professor Trelawney looked at Hermione, blinking slowly.

"Well, they do…" Hermione said. "Everyone knows about Harriet and You-Know-Who."

"Indeed my dear, but that is not the point of the exercise, is it?" Professor Trelawney countered. "That does not change the symbol in the tea-leaves, nor its meaning, does it?"

"N-no… well… I guess not," Hermione muttered.

The whole class was staring at Hermione. None of them had ever heard her speak out against a teacher like that.

Professor Trelawney returned her attention to the tea-cup. "The club… and attack… dear, dear, this is not a very happy cup is it?"

"I… I thought that was an acorn," Ronnie muttered sheepishly.

"Ah and there is the skull. There is danger in your path my dear," Professor Trelawney went on. Harriet shivered when Professor Trelawney gave the cup another turn and let out a terrible scream. Neville fell off his pouf, knocking over and smashing his second teacup.

"Oh no… oh no… oh this is terrible," Professor Trelawney said as she made her way on shaky knees to her arm chair, sinking into it and resting a trembling hand on her heart.

"What is it, Professor?" Seamus asked eagerly.

"I… I shouldn't say… it is kinder not to…"

"Not say what?" Lavender pressed.

"My dear girl… you have… the Grim!"

Parvati, Ronnie, Neville and Seamus all gasped. Dean, Lavender, Tori and Rachel however looked confused while Hermione looked sceptical. Harriet however blinked as the word triggered something in her memory. She had heard that name before.

"What's the Grim?" Dean asked, nervously.

Professor Trelawney looked at him incredulously. "It is the giant, spectral, black dog that haunts church yards! It is an ill omen, an evil omen! The worst omen of… death!"

At the words _black dog_ Harriet knew where she had heard the name 'grim' before. While running with Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins after their escape from Privet Drive, they had seen the massive black dog following them, and Professor Howe had called it a Gurt Dog, not a Grim. He had also said: "_Many say that Black Dogs are ill omens, but they're mostly misunderstood. They're big and scary so people like to attach dark names to them: Barguist, the Grim, Gytrash, Padfoot."_

"_I_ don't think it looks like a Grim," Hermione said coolly.

Professor Trelawney's face was full of dislike as she looked up at Hermione. "Do please forgive my saying so, dear, but alas I perceive very little receptivity to the vibrations of the timelines within you."

"But, how do you really know it's a death omen?" Harriet asked. "I saw a big black dog this summer with… well… some friends. They said Black Dogs have many names, including the Grim, but they aren't actually bad."

Professor Trelawney now looked at Harriet with something like dislike. "And who were these 'friends' to question the delicate workings of the future and prophecy?"

Harriet glared. "Actually, it was Professor Sherrod Howe."

The class all looked at Harriet. Some faces were confused, while others showed awe, or shock, or disbelief.

"You seriously met with Sherrod Howe… _the_ Sherrod Howe?" Parvati asked, her eyes wide.

"Well… yeah, I mean I met him before. I met him in Professor Dumbledore's office last year during the attacks. Anyway we were sort of, uh, traveling, and we saw one following us. He said it was a Gurt Dog and they protect travellers and children, and he told it that I was safe and it wasn't going to be needed, so it left."

The class was now staring at Harriet with wide-eyed fascination. Professor Trelawney looked even more irritable that no one was taking her sighting of a Grim in Harriet's teacup very seriously.

"Professor Howe is adept at a great many things, my dear, but I cannot speak as to his talents as a Seer, I have heard none of them. The book clearly states that symbol is the Grim, and the Grim means Death. You are going to want to watch yourself, my dear, this does not bode well. While I hope your friend is right, what happens in the physical realm has no bearing on what I have seen. Class dismissed for the day."

The class went about packing up for their next class in a sombre mood. Harriet could tell some were eager to ask more about her encounter with Sherrod Howe. Others, notably Ronnie, were still looking worried. Hermione meanwhile was looking furious.

"What utter rubbish!" Hermione declared the moment her feet touched the floor of the landing below.

Harriet didn't respond, merely sped up to get away from any further questions as they made their way to Transfiguration. Her mind was whirling. Who was right? Was it Professor Howe, or Professor Trelawney? Professor Howe certainly seemed much more authoritative. Professor Trelawney had seemed to get a little too much enjoyment out of being mysterious and vague. But what if Professor Howe had just said that about the black dog so Harriet wouldn't panic? Cornelius Fudge had said not to trust him.

Harriet shook her head. They arrived just in time for Transfiguration and Harriet quickly moved to sit with Kieran and Marcus who were waiting.

"How was—you okay?" Kieran asked, noticing the look on the three girls' faces.

"Well, aside from Professor Trelawney just told her she was going to die, yeah she's fine," Hermione said. Her voice was dripping with irony.

"Oh, okay yeah that's not so fun," Marcus said. At that moment, Professor McGonagall entered the room and the class fell silent.

Harriet couldn't focus. She kept going over Professor Howe's words. He had said it was actually a good omen, and when he told the dog it wasn't needed, it really had left. Though it had seemed reluctant to do so…

"Potter!"

Harriet jumped and looked up at Professor McGonagall who was standing over her, giving Harriet her trademark stare that made Harriet feel very, very small.

"What is with you today?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Harriet spluttered. Hermione raised her hand.

"Please, Professor, we were just having our first Divination class, and we were reading tealeaves and—"

"Oh of course, of course," Professor McGonagall said, sounding exasperated and actually removing her glasses, rubbing her eyes. "Let me guess, she saw the Grim in your cup, didn't she, Potter?"

Harriet blinked and nodded.

"I'll have you know, Potter, that Professor Trelawney has predicted the death of at least one student a year since she started at this school twelve years ago. Take a wild guess at how many have died?"

"I would guess none," Jackson said from the back of the room.

"That is correct, Lee," Professor McGonagall said without looking at him. "Seeing death omens is Professor Trelawney's favourite way to start a new class. I try and never speak ill of my colleagues, but needless to say I cannot very well teach my classes with my students terrified over false notions of their impending dooms. And so, since you appear in rather good health, I do hope you don't mind if I don't let you off homework today. It should go without saying that if you die, I will not require you to hand it in."

Quite a few students laughed at this, Harriet included. Professor McGonagall returned to her lecture, which today was Animagi. Harriet continued to smile, and joined in eagerly with the class as they applauded when Professor McGonagall turned herself into a tabby-cat and back again. However, as Harriet looked around, clearly not everyone was reassured. Ronnie was still avoiding Harriet's eye.

Most of the class was talking excitedly after Transfiguration, no longer about death omens, but about animagi. Harriet was surprised to see that it was Marcus and Kieran who seemed the most excited by the concept of animagi, and were talking excitedly with each other about what kinds of animals they would turn into if they could. Marcus wanted to turn into a falcon like his own falcon, Adal, so they could finally fly together. Kieran was less decisive, and just knew he wanted to turn into something else.

Harriet continued to smile as they made their way down to lunch. She had decided who to believe. She would continue to believe Professor Howe. He was a bit mad, a bit dashing, and very clever. And somehow, deep down, Harriet knew that of everyone she had ever met, Professor Sherrod Howe would never lie to her.


	10. History of Horses

Chapter 10

History of Horses

"There is only one fundamental rule in my mind when it comes to dealing with animals: 'There are no rules.' You are dealing with a creature that does not think, or act, or communicate in the same manner you do. This is why even the most experienced experts can still be injured. And yet, every now and then... something magical happens."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

"Harriet? Did—did you really see a big, black dog this summer?" It was lunchtime. Ronnie was still looking uncertain and stealing nervous glances at Harriet.

Hermione however scowled. "Oh Ronnie, would you give that a rest? You heard Harriet and Professor McGonagall. Who are you going to trust; Professor _Sherrod Howe_ and Professor McGonagall, or some crazy fraud like her?"

"How do you know she's a fraud?" Ronnie retorted.

"Well, by the sound of it this whole "Grim" thing is sort of an old story with her," Kieran reasoned. "I mean, Professor McGonagall knew that's what it was straight away, didn't she?"

"Yeah…" Ronnie admitted grudgingly.

"Oh Ronnie, just out with it will you?" Dora demanded. "What about it's really bothering you?"

Ronnie scowled. "Well, what if it really was a death omen?!" she snapped. "And now I've gotta live with the fact I'm the one who saw it in my best-friend's tea-cup!"

Everyone fell silent at this. Even Hermione and Dora looked sympathetic.

"Oh Ronnie, no one's…" Hermione said, trailing off as she tried to find the right words. "You're right, that isn't good. All we're saying is she's probably wrong it's a death omen. I mean—"

"Trelawney's a hack," said a nearby voice cutting Hermione off. Harriet turned and saw Tori, who was sitting nearby with Rachel.

"Totally, she's as much a Seer as I am bigger than Tori," Rachel added and Tori laughed.

"How do you know?" Ronnie asked.

Tori rolled her eyes. "Because we went to school with a real Seer. About the only thing Trelawney had right was that Divination _is_ really difficult."

"You went to school with a Seer?" Hermione asked. Now she was the one who sounded sceptical.

"Oh yeah," Rachel said. "He was in our grade. He was really nice. He came from a really long line of Native Seers, one of the few true pure-blooded Native families left. His parents worked for the Tylers; lived on their ranch and cared for the horses."

"Katy and Kenley, you mean?" Marcus asked.

"Yeah, he was like the middle child between Kenley and Katy," Rachel said. "They were pretty much brother and sisters."

"What… what happened to him?" Scott asked cautiously.

Rachel and Tori's faces both fell. Harriet felt her heart sink. "Honestly… we don't know… He might be in a camp or—"

"Don't say it!" shrieked Katy, who had obviously been listening in. She got to her feet and glared. "Don't you dare say he's dead! He's not! He's NOT!"

"Katy!" Ginny exclaimed. She got up too and rushed to Katy along with the rest of Katy's friends, all trying to calm her. Even Professor Sinistra came down from the staff table and put an arm around Katy's shoulders, shushing her in a motherly way and guiding her from the Great Hall. Ginny and the rest followed. An awkward silence followed as everyone watched the retreating group.

"Well, let's all head down to Hagrid's," Hermione said trying to smile. "We can finally figure out what the surprise is and get some fresh air. That'll help us all feel better."

"Agreed," Dora replied, smiling excitedly. "Come on, sour-puss," she said hooking an arm under Ronnie's and trying to pull her to her feet.

Ronnie rolled her eyes and rose. Harriet smiled and they bid Scott a good afternoon before making their way out the front doors and into the grounds. In spite of Professor Trelawney and Ronnie's fears, Harriet just couldn't be worried. She knew Sirius Black was after her, but somehow here with her friends, going to classes, living the normal routine of her life, she couldn't help but smile.

Hagrid was waiting for them when they arrived at his cabin. He looked beside himself with excitement, rocking back and forth on his feet impatiently.

"Come along now!" he called cheerfully. "Got an incredible lesson for us today; a truly unique experience. Never dreamed in my lifetime I'd get ter meet one but I got ter spend a whole two weeks learnin' ever'thing I can about him and his kind. So rare he's not even in yer books!"

"Not that we'd know," drawled Draco Malfoy.

Harriet closed her eyes, praying for patience. Hagrid blinked in confusion. "What's that yeh say?" he asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ from his bag, which he had belted shut. Several other students drew out their copies the book as well. Everyone had their books either belted, tied, or taped shut.

"N-none of yeh've been able ter open yer books?" Hagrid asked, his face falling.

Everyone shook their heads, even Hermione. Hagrid spluttered in exasperation.

"Yeh got ter stroke 'em!" he said and picked up Hermione's copy. He pulled off the tape and the book began snapping immediately. However, Hagrid held it easily and ran one giant finger down its spine. The book shuddered and fell limp. Hagrid smiled handing it back to Hermione.

"Oh goodness, how silly we were not thinking of stroking a finger-eating book," Draco grumbled.

"I-I thought they were funny," Hagrid said awkwardly.

"Oh yeah, a right laugh, they are," Draco said.

"Well, it is pretty sensible in the end when you think about it," someone else spoke up. Harriet turned and saw that it was Jackson who was walking around the corner of Hagrid's cabin, AJ walking alongside him.

"Animals usually respond a lot better to kindness than to aggression and force," AJ said giving Malfoy a disapproving look.

Jackson walked over and picked up Hermione's book. He smirked at Malfoy and turned the book around showed everyone the back cover.

"Never mind the fact that 'Stroke spine to open' is written on the back cover if you'd taken the time to look at it," he said.

Harriet pulled her copy out, feeling it tremble as it attempted to free itself from the coil of clothesline. She looked at the back and realized he was correct. In fact, it was the only thing written on the back cover. Harriet started to feel a bit foolish. Malfoy however looked livid as he glared at Jackson.

"Well, quite right yeh are, Lee," Hagrid said clapping Jackson hard on the back, nearly making him drop Hermione's book. "Oh, sorry. Well anyway, don't need ter bother with yer books today. Like I said, your surprise isn't in there anyway. Follow me."

Hagrid turned and led them all around the corner of his house, where Jackson and AJ had come, the two following close behind. Harriet started after them with the rest of the class. Behind her, she could hear Malfoy muttering with his group of cronies.

"What is it with these American riff-raff and getting on with that great oaf?" he asked. "First that 'Coy' girl or whatever the hell her name is—"

"Oh don't give me that, Malfoy," said a Slytherin boy with dark-red hair who Harriet did not know by name. "You couldn't take your ferrety eyes off her last year."

"No one asked you, Mallory!" Malfoy snapped.

"She is half-blood, you know," added another tall black boy, his eyes glittering with malice. "So she is at least partly qualified."

Beside Harriet, Dora was smirking. "Welcome to the joys of Slytherin house."

"Do they always squabble like this?"

"Oh yes," Dora's friend Sae said smiling. "Not that you should go counting Wright and Mallory friends because they are picking on Malfoy. They just really do not like Malf—ooooooooooo that is pretty," Sae finished changing subjects halfway through and pointing.

Harriet turned to look. They had come around the back of Hagrid's hut and were now just outside his vegetable patch. In the middle, pulling up a fresh carrot from the dirt and sniffing it with great interest was the horse who had accompanied Jackson to McIntyre Manor that summer.

"Oh, should have guessed," Kieran said shaking his head. "He is a fine specimen though."

The horse looked up at the students, his black, fathomless eyes panning the group as he munched on the carrot lazily. Just like back at McIntyre Manor, Harriet felt the strong sense of intelligence coming from the horse, but she still found the inability to tell what expressions it was making disconcerting.

"Right, this here is our big surprise for the day," Hagrid said, about to pat the horse on the shoulders but it managed to duck out of the way in time and prance to the side.

"What, a horse? Oh yes, terribly thrilling," Draco drawled sounding bored.

There was no guessing what the horse was thinking as his eyes narrowed and his ears folded back. He was staring straight at Malfoy, who also seemed to notice. He swallowed and shifted uncomfortably as the horse unmistakably glared at him. Harriet found the horse's expressions even more unnerving than before.

"Oh not just any horse," Hagrid said. "Can anyone—er, you excluded, AJ and Lee—tell me what kind'er horse Epeius here is?"

"A Clydesdale?" Malfoy said, drawing sycophantic sniggers from his gang.

"Oh shut up, Malfoy," Harriet hissed.

"Shouldn't you be passed out by now, Potter? We're awfully close to the Dementors now you know?" Malfoy quipped back.

"A Clydesdale you say?" Hagrid asked. Harriet couldn't tell if he was amused or annoyed. "Well then, iff'n yeh know so much, why don't yeh come up here and tell us all about 'im then, eh?"

Malfoy suddenly looked a great deal less confident, but he hitched his usual sneer back onto his face as he stepped forward.

"Alright then, _professor_, my mother has taken me riding before. As long as you know what you're doing it's no problem dealing with horses, they're not the brightest animals, you know?" he called back over his shoulder to the rest of the class. "You approach it calmly from the front so it can see you, and—"

"Boo!"

Draco let out a cry of surprise and landed on his back in a puddle of mud leftover from yesterday's rain. Harriet blinked looking around unsure at first of who had spoken. The horse, Epeius was prancing about and someone was laughing, a strange, deep laugh though it felt light and joyful.

Harriet's jaw fell wide open. It was the horse. Epeius was _laughing_.

"Who's not very bright you said?" Jackson asked Malfoy, his face full of glee as Epeius cantered about, his head held triumphantly high.

Malfoy glared at the horse and scrambled to his feet. As he did, he stuck his hand in his pocket and began to draw his wand. "I'll teach you to—"

"To what?" Jackson asked, stepping between Malfoy and the horse. He had his own wand drawn already and his face had lost all of its playful nature. He looked ready to curse Malfoy without a moment's hesitation.

Hagrid quickly stepped in between them and AJ rushed to Jackson pushing his hand down.

"Hey now! Wands away! No need fer that here! It was just a little joke there, Malfoy. Epeius didn't mean anything by it," Hagrid said, looking both angry and nervous.

"Maybe a little," Epeius said, his long face sticking around Hagrid's side to look at Malfoy.

Harriet gave her head a little shake. It was a talking horse; a real, true, talking horse. She had seen many strange things during the last two years since she learned she was a witch. Harriet knew she had the ability to speak to snakes, but that was a special power she had received from Voldemort, according to Professor Dumbledore. But this was different. This horse could actually speak.

Hagrid gave Epeius a look and the horse simply snorted and stepped around Hagrid to look at the class. Jackson and Malfoy slowly put their wands away and Malfoy backed up to re-join his gamg. He handed his robes to Crabbe who tried awkwardly to shake the mud off of them.

Harriet returned her attention to Epeius who was still surveying the class. Finally he took a breath and spoke again. "Yes. I can speak. My name is Epeius. I am an Areion; an American Areion."

"But," Hermione started, flipping through the glossary of _The Monster Book of Monsters_, "but there are Areions listed in here, Hagrid."

"Right, but not _Epeius'_ kind of Areion. People thought they've been extinct for ages," Hagrid explained.

"A misconception we've tried to keep going over the centuries," Epeius said. "But now that the war is going on, people back home have bigger oats to chew than a long-lost species of talking horses."

Harriet raised her hand.

"Yes, Harriet?" Hagrid asked.

"But, I don't understand… when I saw you this summer, why didn't you talk then?" she asked.

Epeius gave off a little snort that might have been a laugh. "Well, I learned pretty quickly once I got Jackson to civilization that being a talking horse seems to upset people who aren't expecting you to be a talking horse."

"Heh yeah I could see that," Marcus muttered. "Guessing that's why you never spoke around me either?"

"The very same reason," Epeius replied.

"Okay, so he's a talking horse, big deal," Malfoy said, apparently trying to get his own back. "What's so special about that? There's magical species of bird that can do that too."

"But I doubt you'd find even a handful of them that could fly as fast as Epeius can run," Hagrid said, smiling down at Epeius. "Or carry as heavy of loads. Even the hairs of their manes and tails are nearly unbreakable."

"I'll say, you should have seen how hard the lady who made my new wand this summer had to work to get one of Epeius' tail hairs for the core," Jackson said, holding his wand up.

Quite a few of the other girls around the group giggled, even Pixie, though she quickly stopped when Malfoy and Zabini gave her a dirty look.

"Wasn't that funny," Jackson muttered putting his wand away and looking sheepish again.

Hagrid chuckled but Hermione, who hadn't laughed, stepped towards Epeius. "Excuse me, Mr Epeius, but I would like to ask, how did your kind get to America? Do they speak of it in your stories at all?"

The class fell silent and listened in. Epeius just kept looking at Hermione and again Harriet was visited with the frustration at not being sure what he was thinking. He seemed to have some human expressions, mostly around his eyes, but he didn't seem to be able to frown or smile. Harriet then wondered if she was glad he couldn't, as the sight of a smiling horse just might have been too much.

Finally, Epeius answered. "Of course they do," he said matter-of-factly.

"Then, how?" Hermione asked. "Because from what I've read about life in Palaeolithic North America all native horse species died out until they were reintroduced by European settlers."

"Well, there you have your answer then," Epeius said.

"So you came with European settlers? The Spanish, English or French?" Kieran asked.

"The Spanish. Spanish wizards liked to keep an Areion or two in each herd as they explored."

"Why was that?" Parvati asked.

"And if you were brought by the Spanish, why don't you speak Spanish?" asked Lavender.

"¡Yo hablo español, señorita!" Epeius replied, sounding offended.

"Oh, that was flash," Lavender muttered.

Epeius chuckled again and turned back to Parvati. "As for why the Spanish liked having us around, well, you can't really talk to normal horses, can you? So having a few of us about to act as intermediaries I'm sure was useful."

"Then when did you all learn English?" Zabini asked, sounding torn between curiosity and scepticism.

"Well it was necessity. Frankly, the Spanish lost, and we weren't overly fond of them anyway. Our job was to survive. The tongue of the newcomers was English, and so we adapted."

"Heh, an animal talking about evolution? I like that," the boy Mallory said.

Epeius turned to Mallory. "Is the need to walk on two legs necessary to noticing the continual passing of seasons, or the aging of trees, even the coming and going of people's? Oh yes, we know all things change."

"Do… do you mean the Natives?" Hermione asked. She was barely audible.

"Yes," Epeius said simply. "The proud Sioux. They were probably the finest horsemen in the entire world, so many tales we have of their skills from the backs of our brothers."

"'Brothers?'" Dean Thomas asked. "Didn't you ride with them?"

"No."

"Why not?" asked Seamus Finnigan.

Epeius gave a nicker that might have been a laugh, Harriet couldn't quite tell. "We had gone through quite enough while living under the Spanish. We didn't like the uses that the Spanish put us too, and we weren't that anxious to just replace one human master with another. While the Sioux may have been slightly better than the Spanish, they still would have put us to use riding into battle against their fellow man and hunting our fellows, such as the bison."

"So, does your kind remember anything before the Spanish?" Hermione asked.

Epeius didn't respond right away. He seemed to be thinking. "You know, we don't really have many stories of that, just that the Spanish brought us from across the sea."

"Hmmm," Hermione muttered thoughtfully.

Ronnie stepped forward now. "So, Hagrid said you can run really fast?"

Epeius snorted and Harriet could not decipher that reaction, but Jackson's face broke into a wide grin.

"You all wanna find out just how fast?" Jackson asked.

Most of the class nodded excitedly.

Hagrid grinned. "Alright then, who'd like ter volunteer?"

"Volunteer?" Pansy Parkinson asked nervously.

"Fer a ride," Hagrid replied.

Most of the class now looked nervous instead of excited. Epeius' ears drooped a little and Jackson's face fell. "Well, it just doesn't quite get the point across watching him run," Jackson said, stroking Epeius' mane in a comforting way.

Harriet looked long and hard at the horse and finally stepped forward. "I'll do it."

Hagrid beamed and Jackson blushed but smiled.

"Doesn't he need a saddle?" Harriet asked.

AJ shook her head. "Not Epeius. You won't find a smoother ride anywhere. And he'll never throw a rider."

"Unless I want to," Epeius said.

Jackson laughed. "Nor would you get him to consent to wear one."

"Not in a hundred years."

"Okay then," Harriet said, not entirely reassured as she stepped closer. "How do I…?"

"Here ya go," Hagrid said and held out a hand just high enough for Harriet to step on and get to the right height to get on Epeius' back.

Harriet stepped up onto his hand but then looked at Epeius awkwardly. "Er, any particular way I should sit?"

"Any way you want," Jackson said. "Like AJ said, he won't throw you."

Harriet nodded and threw one leg over Epeius' back. It wasn't exactly lady like, but it put her in mind of riding her broomstick at least. Epeius was warm and breathed deep and slow under her. She flushed feeling a little silly.

"Just squeeze his sides a bit and lean forward," Jackson said.

"O-okay," Harriet said, looking back out at the class. Most of the Slytherins were looking sceptical, while Pansy and Pixie were looking downright malicious. Malfoy had a look on his face that Harriet couldn't quite place. Was it worry? There was no mistaking the looks of worry on the faces of Lavender, Parvati and Ronnie. Kieran however was smiling at her proudly and Hermione had a slight look of jealousy. Neville looked terrified.

"Okay, so, um… whenever you're ready," Harriet said, trying to be polite as she could, feeling awkward enough already.

Epeius turned his head and looked at her. Harriet blinked as she stared back into his shiny black eye. Epeius looked away again.

"Sure you're ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Harriet said and leaned forward a little more.

"Alright then. Three, two, one!"

The next thing Harriet knew, the wind was whipping her hair behind her head. Epeius seemed to move just as smoothly as a broomstick as his legs flashed and thudded rapidly. She couldn't even hear the individual sound of the hoof-beats, it was just a constant drone.

AJ had been right, despite the speed she didn't feel as though she was going to be thrown at all. She didn't even need to hold on as Epeius shot off around the castle and tilted hard, rounding the corners with ease despite his speed. Even then, Harriet had a strange suspicion that Epeius was not going as fast as he really could.

Finally they got around the back of the castle and were starting to come up on the lake. Harriet gasped. Epeius wasn't about to do what she thought he was going to do. The horse closed on the lake with alarming speed and Harriet closed her eyes waiting for the splash.

It didn't come. Harriet opened her eyes and saw that Epeius had managed to turn without her noticing and was running along the lake shore instead. Harriet felt her lips curling into a smile in spite of herself. She attempted to ask Epeius if he could go faster but her voice was lost in the howling wind.

However, at that moment Epeius began to slow down, skidding on his hooves in the mud. He came to a halt and his head was swinging wide from side to side, his ears flickering all around, his eyes wide and alert.

"Something wrong?" Harriet asked.

"They're coming. We have to go back."

"What's coming?"

Epeius looked back at her. "Dementors."

Just then, Harriet felt a chill begin to run down her back, spreading out through her body. Epeius spun and took off once more, churning the mud and dirt beneath his hooves as he shot back up the shoreline. Harriet felt the chill ebbing away as they headed back towards Hagrid's hut. Harriet smiled smugly as they shot underneath the Whomping Willow, much too fast for it to react; swinging its dangerous branches harmlessly after them.

Epeius skidded to another stop in front of the class and everyone gaped.

"Wow, what was it like?!" Dean asked excitedly.

"I've never seen anything move that fast!" Kendra Hwang, a Slytherin, said.

"Can I try next?!" asked Hermione, looking breathless with wide eyes.

"One at a time now, one at a time," Hagrid said chuckling. "Harriet went so that was one Gryffindor, let's give a Slytherin a go this time!"

Harriet beamed as Hagrid helped her down off Epeius. More than anything, she was happy that by the looks of things, Hagrid's first lesson was a huge success.

* * *

Harriet grunted trying to comb her hair as fast as she could. She had slept hard that night after so little sleep the previous few. She was finding it difficult to believe that only three days ago she had been only a block away from a giant explosion that killed over thirty people. And then yesterday she had met and even ridden a horse that not only could talk, but could also run faster than Harriet had ever flown on her broomstick.

Once more, it looked as though Basheera had left early for prayer. Harriet and the others had dressed quickly. They were all excited because today was their first day of History of Magic with Professor Stratton. The new professor did seem quite austere from the few times they saw him at meals, but as far as Harriet was concerned, anyone teaching History of Magic had to be better than Binns.

They took a longer time reaching the History of Magic class, as it was no longer held in the same classroom. While most students, Parvati and Lavender in particular, were chatting excitedly, Hermione alone seemed indifferent to the change of staff.

"What's wrong with you, Hermione?" Parvati asked. "We have a _new_ professor who looks interesting and smart."

"And tall and dark and muscly," Lavender added in a dreamy tone.

"Well Professor Binns was interesting and smart, if anyone had cared to pay attention," Hermione said defensively.

"Well we did try," Marcus said. "The stuff he was saying I'm sure was real interesting if _anyone_ else in the world had been saying it. And the way he just read everything out of the book, it was so lazy. Most the stuff I learned in that class I learned just reading the book on my own."

Hermione sniffed sticking her nose in the air. "And I certainly wouldn't just pay attention over something as trivial as looks."

"_Lockhart!_" said Ronnie, though she attempted to make it sound like a sneeze. Quite a few of the surrounding class laughed openly.

Hermione glared at Ronnie. "Oh shut up. I stopped believing in his qualifications as a teacher the moment he was rude about Kieran."

Harriet shrugged. "Well—"

"Okay, well that was the turning point at least!"

There followed an awkward silence when finally Basheera spoke up. "He just would read from the book?" she asked Marcus, changing the subject.

"Oh yeah," Ronnie cut-in with an ever-suffering voice. "It was _awful_! It only took five minutes and I was _out_ like a light."

Basheera giggled.

At that moment, the door swung open and Professor Stratton was there. Harriet swallowed. Seeing him from across the Great Hall had not done justice to just how tall Professor Stratton truly was. She was used to very tall people, being such good friends with Hagrid. Yet somehow Hagrid did not have quite the presence that Professor Stratton did. Harriet found she couldn't take her eyes off of his. She was anxious to see if they flashed greenish-silver again as they had the first night.

Finally, Professor Stratton's face broke into a wide smile. His teeth were very white and straight, which reminded her for a fleeting moment of Lockhart, but Professor Stratton's smile was much more genuine.

"Welcome. Step inside and take your seats please," Professor Stratton said and stepped back for them to enter.

Harriet took a seat at the front with Hermione, Ronnie, Marcus, Kieran, Basheera and Neville. Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati took their usual seats in the back of the room while Rachel, AJ, Tori, and Jackson sat right behind Harriet and her friends.

Professor Stratton shut the door and strode to the front of the room. Harriet looked around the new room with interest. The walls were lined with books, which Harriet noted Hermione was eyeing with keen interest. There was also a great deal of magical artefacts, many Harriet didn't recognize.

"Well, greetings and welcome to our first History of Magic class together. As I learned too well in other classes yesterday, I can see we have quite a bit of work to do, but first I suppose we could start with any questions you all have," Professor Stratton said looking around.

Harriet had questions, but mostly she was taken aback. He had given Harriet the impression of being another Professor McGonagall or Snape. But he was beaming around expectantly, standing behind his desk and rocking on the balls of his feet pleasantly.

True to form, Hermione's hand was the first in the air.

"Yes?" Professor Stratton asked.

"Well, I was just wondering sir, Professor Dumbledore said you've come out of retirement, but if you don't mind my saying so, you don't seem to be of retiring age."

Harriet looked at Hermione in surprise. That wasn't the question she would have thought to ask and she looked back at Professor Stratton, hoping he wasn't offended. However, Professor Stratton simply smiled.

"Well, I retired from _teaching_ it is true. And you don't need me to tell you, Miss Granger, that looks are certainly deceiving," he said, a chuckle in his voice.

Hermione flushed. Harriet felt a little surprised. This was the first she had ever spent in real close contact with Professor Stratton and he already knew their names?

"I ceased teaching as a profession shortly before you were all born. Which I know seems _centuries_ ago but really once you get to be my age it is perhaps the blink of an eye," Professor Stratton said.

"Did you teach History of Magic then too, sir?" Tori asked.

"I did, as a matter-of-fact," Professor Stratton said. "It has been my lifelong passion. Dumbledore requested me to come give Professor Binns' a well-earned holiday for a few years as a favour. I taught from the fall of Nineteen Seventy-One to the summer of Nineteen Seventy-Eight."

Kieran raised his hand now. "So, that means you knew my parents then?"

"Oh yes, Mister O'Brien," Professor Stratton replied. "And yours, Mister Longbottom, and of course you too, Miss Potter. Heh, I admit I gave your father and his friends more than my fair share of detentions while here."

Harriet blinked and opened her mouth to reply but Parvati was quicker.

"What was Professor McGonagall like back then?" Parvati asked with interest.

"Oh much the same as far as personality goes," Professor Stratton said in an offhand tone.

"Do you remember any other professors?" Lavender asked.

"Well naturally I remember Professor Dumbledore and Flitwick—oh, Miss Weasley, your parents graduated shortly before I began, so while I have met them I did not have them as pupils—I also recall some of your professors from when they themselves were students here. I knew Professors Lupin and Snape back when they were wee first-years," Professor Stratton explained.

"Oh jeez, Snape was a kid too once upon a time? That's a terrifying thought," Dean quipped from the back of the room, causing a few giggles.

"Well yes, everyone was a child once upon a time," Professor Stratton said calmly. "Even Voldemort himself."

A wave of gasps swept over the room at the sound of the name. Tori looked around at everyone who had gasped with annoyance. "Oh seriously you all, it's just a name!"

"Yeah, the name of the most evil person to ever exist!" Seamus shot back.

Tori opened her mouth to reply but Professor Stratton held up a hand. "Now, now," he said quelling the room. "No call for that. A name is a name. Simply a word used to give meaning to an object or idea, nothing more. Anyway, does anyone have any other questions?"

This time, it was Jackson who raised his hand.

"Yes, Lee?" Professor Stratton asked.

"Well, Professor, I have my friend Epeius here, and he had his first sort of outing getting to know the students yesterday in Professor Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class… and while it was going on, Granger brought up a good point… Epeius doesn't know anything about his people's history—"

"People? He's a horse—" Seamus said cutting Jackson off but Professor Stratton gave him a quelling look and he fell silent.

"Go on, Lee."

"Well, he doesn't know anything about how his people really came to be, like, before the Spanish brought them to America."

Professor Stratton nodded and walked around in front of his desk before leaning back against it. "And so you were hoping I could shed a little light on that?"

"Well, yeah," Jackson replied.

Professor Stratton stroked his chin in thought. "Well, that is a rather interesting story, entwined in the magical history of ancient Greece."

"Ancient Greece?" Marcus asked, his eyes going wide with excitement.

"Indeed. In fact, despite Professor Binns' original lesson plans of studying witch burnings, I figured topics such as Ancient Greece would be much more instructive and interesting, and probably a great deal less depressing."

"Can't say fairer than that," Dean agreed.

"However, I'm not entirely sure they will be the answers your friend is looking for," Professor Stratton went on with a sombre look at Jackson. "Unfortunately, much of the magical history of ancient Greece has become so entwined with mythology and folklore it is very difficult to separate the legends from the facts. So I'm afraid much of what I can tell you is conjecture only."

Jackson shrugged. "Anything's better than nothing," he said.

"Well… people always used to say the Chamber of Secrets was just a myth but Harriet sure proved that wrong last year," Ronnie said, actually looking excited.

Professor Stratton gave a short laugh. "Well, what have you all been taught about Greek mythology?"

Immediately, Hermione's hand punched straight up into the air.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes sir, there were the main Greek gods, the Olympians, who took over after Cronus and the Titans. They were noted for being very human in their personalities but incredibly powerful. The leader was Zeus, who controlled lightning. Though if you were to ask _me_ since he could control earthquakes I'd say Poseidon should have been the most powerful—"

"Okay, okay," Professor Stratton said chuckling. "Definitely know enough, Miss Granger, considering Greek mythology was not a part of the curriculum until now."

He cleared his throat and looked around the class. "Yes, most of Greek mythology is dominated by the tales of the Olympians who overthrew Cronus and the titans to take over controlling the mortal world from their home on Mount Olympus. Each had a certain aspect of the natural world or Grecian life that they were purported to control. Often they were picked as patrons for certain cities, such as Athena who was the patron of Athens. Incidentally, I should note the Roman name for Athena was of course…?"

Professor Stratton gave Hermione an expectant smile and Hermione beamed. "Minerva!"

"Precisely. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, that is the _very_ brief version to get us going. We'll go into more detail in the following days but it is sufficient I think for us to start there, because we must also understand that is the _Muggle_ version of that history," Professor Stratton went on.

"The Muggle version?" Marcus asked looking even more interested.

"Indeed. It does coincide rather strongly with the magical accounts, however, in magical accounts it appears to be unlikely the Olympians were actually gods and goddesses."

The whole class fell silent at this.

"Then, what were they?" Kieran asked.

"Why, most modern magical historians theorize they were in fact witches and wizards."

"You mean… you're not seriously suggesting they were real?" Hermione asked, her mouth hanging open. "Real people?"

"Well, it is a very strong possibility. There is much of the ancient magical world that we do not know. Many records were purged around the time of the creation of the Statute of Secrecy. The magical world went into hiding and never looked back. It's only been recently that we have started looking back and trying to unlock the mysteries. However, there is very compelling evidence that the figures such as Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Athena, did in fact exist thousands of years ago. They may have existed at the very birth of Greece, and so even within a few generations of their deaths, and perhaps even within their own lifetimes, they could have been witches and wizards of such extraordinary power they created their own legends in their own time."

"But sir, that's just crazy!" Dean spluttered. "To think we wouldn't even know that the Greek gods were real—"

"And goddesses!" Rachel snapped.

"Right, sure. Anyway, I mean, how could we not know that!?"

Professor Stratton leaned back on the desk again. "What year was Hogwarts founded?"

"Uhhhhh…" Dean blinked thinking hard.

"Right. We don't even know what year the school which you are attending at this _very moment_ was founded. Until very recently it wasn't known that the Vikings had made it to the American continents almost half a millennia before Columbus made his voyage," he paused and leaned forward speaking in a hushed voice, "though to be fair to both, obviously the Native Americans 'discovered' North America many millennia before even the Vikings."

Tori and Hermione giggled.

"Okay, so, the Greek gods—and goddesses," Jackson said with a nervous look at Rachel, "what does that have to do with Epeius?"

"Well, because according to most legends, the Areions were created by the Olympians—I think we can consider that our politically correct name for them—though the legends are a little hazy as to which of the Olympians were directly responsible. Most accounts however say he was sired by Poseidon with the goddess Demeter."

"You mean like they did, you know, and gave birth to him?" Parvati asked, sounding revolted.

"Well, that is the _legend_ version of the story at least. More likely, Demeter and Poseidon, if we accept the witch/wizard hypothesis, created the Areions, most likely as war-steeds," Professor Stratton explained.

"Well that would fit," Hermione said. "Most people who encounter them seem to want them for that purpose according to Epeius himself. The Spanish, the natives…"

"Precisely," Professor Stratton agreed.

"Heh, not sure Epeius will like that…" Jackson muttered.

Professor Stratton sighed. "I wouldn't think so. Often that is the reason humans dabble in the affairs of other species. Not even just the magical world. Would the myriad of dog and cat breeds exist outside mankind's intervention? Do you think sheep and cows just evolved through natural processes? But I would still tell him to take heart. After all, it's not always about where you came from, but about whom you are. Perhaps they were bred as beasts of war, but haven't they become something much more? They have their own culture and their freedom. They escaped what they were. Tell him that and that he should be more proud of his people now than he was before."

Jackson beamed, and Harriet felt her heart glow. She had been uncertain of Professor Stratton before, but that was such a "Dumbledore-ish" thing for him to say she could not help but smile. In spite of all the worries, of having had tragedy happen only a few days before, somehow in that moment, Harriet knew good things were going to happen that year. Very good things.


End file.
